Never Quite Lost
by violet-bo
Summary: AU. The battle had been short, the victory simple. And with Merlin's magic on their side, well, what was out there that they couldn't do? Destiny was fulfilled, Albion was born, and everyone was happy. Everything had been going their way. 'So why,' Arthur thought, 'did it all have to go so horribly wrong' Features baby!Merlin and caring!everybody. Not what you think.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first Merlin fiction, so please be gentle in reviews and such! I've been meaning to write this for a while, but didn't know if I could pull it off; it taking place in a different time period. But, I finally gathered up my courage, opened my laptop, and here we are. **

**This is officially an AU, taking place after Camlann, but without anybody dying. Lancelot is here, too! I just can't stand the way the series ended, so here's my way to console myself.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin**

**Never Quite Lost**

The battle had been short, the victory simple. The bandits had all either surrendered or died, and all that had been left was the cleaning-up of the messy aftermath. Swords had long since been sheathed, battered shields had been lowered, and shoulders had been punched good-naturedly in celebration of their pure magnificence. They had set up camp a few miles away, through the forest, and they had been sitting around the warm fire, laughing and cleansing their minds of the gore that still had yet to be removed, not a short walking-distance away. The knights beamed and radiated brotherly loyalty, each coming up with some way or another to cheer the others up.

Sir Gwaine told riveting tales that _surely, _positively _could not _have happened, ranging from smaller things like wrestling a bear, to not-so-small things like riding a herd of unicorns into battle against several powerful sorcerers, coming out gloriously victorious. The others scoffed at the mere notion, and Sir Elyan laughingly pointed out that no, it wasn't true because only _virgins _could even _see_ unicorns. This gained several more chuckles, and a mock-offended look from Gwaine.

Sir Leon and Sir Lancelot both told honorably humble stories about various rescues and other duties they had performed, like calming terrified children during the aftermath of the Battle of Camlann. This particular tale didn't do much to lighten any hearts, as much as it made them all go solemnly silent. They had lost many good knights in that fight, and lost many allies to the enemy's side well.

Then, when they had thought the good moment was forever lost, Merlin perked up, recalling tales of his childhood and the magical pranks he had played. Soon the mood had returned, and everyone went to bed in good spirits.

The next day promised to be perfect, no rain and no sweltering heat. They made plans to return to Camelot's borders that evening, after clean up was completed and the nearby villages were patrolled. Ealdor being one of these, the newly-appointed Court Sorcerer excitedly invited his friends to visit his mother's hut with him. They could practically _feel _the waves of ecstatic impatience rolling off of the warlock as he spoke of it, and knew he was anticipating his chance to tell his mother that he had finally been accepted as a practitioner of magic.

'So why did it all have to go so wrong?' Arthur silently begged of the Lord. 'Why did this have to happen?'

"Support his head!"

"Wrap it tighter!"

"He's losing too much blood!"

"Stay with us, Merlin!"

The king was blissfully numb as he sat near the edge of the small clearing, watching his brothers-in-arms as they worked frantically to save the youngest of the group.

'Why did that blasted bandit have to live? Why did he have to live, when he would come back for revenge? Why did he have to live to stab Merlin?' He asked in his mind. Well, there's no use in obsessing over it now. He was dead _now_, even though Arthur severely wished he were still living so that he could torture the life right out of him.

While the old raggedy thief had been punished with a fate identical to Merlin's- a sword jammed up from his stomach into his ribcage and lungs- it was hardly justice for what he had done.

And now here was Arthur Pendragon, mighty King of Camelot, uniting force of the great Albion, sobbing like an infant over the lifeless body of his best friend, his brother.

"Sire, you must stay focused!" Percival snapped, effectively bringing Arthur back to task.

"Arthur, keep his torso elevated!" Lancelot ordered. Arthur was all-too happy to let someone else make the decisions for once, and obediently knelt by the former servant's head, gently pulling Merlin's head and shoulders onto his lap. He tapped the boy on the cheek, insisting he wake up.

"Come on, Merlin. You must open your eyes." He pleaded, not caring the slightest if anyone thought any less of him for it. His begging met no response.

The young man in front of him was so unlike the usual Merlin, he had to keep from wondering if maybe they had the wrong warlock.

His skin was pale and sweaty, but cold to the touch and almost bloodless. His face looked more gaunt than usual, shadows filling the craters he called cheeks and purple rings forming under his eyes. He was lying completely bonelessly, not reacting even when Elyan poured water into his wound to clean it. The fact that his magic didn't appear to be healing him was worrisome as well. Every once and a while there'd be a golden shimmering beneath his closed lids, and then matching golden shimmering around the edges of his wound, and they'd all sit with bated breaths and watch hopefully; but then the light would die down again and there would be no change in the status of his injury.

Maybe there was only so much his magic could do?

But, no, he was the mighty Emrys, prophesied by the druids for thousands of years before his birth. He was supposed to be magic _itself,_ with an unending supply and limitless power. He was supposed to stay by Arthur's side forever, it was said to be his destiny for years! Why was his all-powerful magic failing him _now_, of all times? Not once had it failed Arthur, otherwise he would have been long dead. No, Merlin's magic and Merlin himself had always come through for him, and he hated to even ponder on the fact that his best friend's very _being _was betraying him. Did the fates _really _choose to be so unkind to the most selfless, kind, worthy person among them? After all he had done for each and every one of them- things they knew of and things they did not- and they could hardly do anything for him in return; in his hour of need, no less.

They all felt positively rotten.

The wound had been wrapped up tightly in the cleanest of their capes- Gwaine's- and still blood leaked through, staining the Pendragon red a dark maroon. Gwaine doubted he would ever want anything to do with the thing ever again after this was all over.

And that's what scared them the most- this whole experience would eventually end. The possibility- no, _probability_- that this ended with Merlin's death was terrifying. They couldn't be positively sure they could keep him alive until his wound was entirely healed, and the fact that they had to leave this moment where he was injured but _alive _and temporarily stable did not bode well for their lanky friend.

They all sat in solemn silence now, watching and waiting for something, anything, to happen.

While deep down inside they didn't expect him to wake up, they all hoped desperately for another glimpse of those cerulean eyes. Even golden irises would be a sight for sore eyes.

What Lancelot knew, that the rest didn't, was that there was no possible way at all for Merlin to recover. He had taken a few opportunities in the past to study a few medicinal practices with Gaius and knew that while they could _maybe _slow the bleeding, there was no non-magical way to repair the surely shredded tissue of his lungs, the sliced arteries, and his other punctured organs. And it seemed even magic was having difficulty doing those things. It was truly a miracle that he had lived this long.

Of course, that seemed to be the only thing his magic was doing- keeping him barely alive. Not healing his insides, no, just keeping his heart pumping, lungs wheezing, and brain living. They weren't even sure if that counted as alive. He must have been in so much pain, yet his face remained impassive.

There was a wet gurgling noise that now accompanied his ragged breaths, and every once and awhile a single drop of blood would drip from the corner of his mouth. That in itself they knew was a bad sign.

They stayed vigil by his side for what felt like many hours, but must have been only two or three. The warlock's head remained in Arthur's lap, and the king absentmindedly would run his fingers affectionately through the curly hair, black as a raven's wing. Whenever the blood would escape his lips, the king would delicately wipe it away with his cloak and gently turn him over and pat his back in an even gentler fashion, helping dislodge any remaining blood from his throat.

It was after another hour of this pattern that the coughing began.

They started as small, throat-clearing sorts of coughs, but soon became big, choking barks as the man's body struggled to expel the increasing amount of blood from his lungs. As a result, they had to slowly sit him up, with Percival holding him upright while Arthur pat his back more. They had to be extremely careful not to jostle the massive internal injuries throughout his entire front and stomach. He started shivering.

It was after another few minutes that they realized that he was getting increasingly worse, and there was little else they could do other than make him comfortable and keep him functioning a little while longer. Even Arthur was beginning to lose his stubborn hope that all would be well.

His shivers became full-on shakes, his lips and fingernails turned blue, and when Lancelot peeled back his eyelid, his eyes were discovered to be glassy and unfocused, his pupils unresponsive to light.

By late afternoon, not even the warmth of pure sunlight could quell his obvious chills.

They so desperately wanted to move him back to their encampment where there were more supplies, but besides the occasional movements of sitting up and down and being shifted into sunnier patches as the sun flew across the sky, it was unsafe to move him further.

By the fourth hour, the coughing turned to vomiting.

Blood was everywhere now, on the ground, on Merlin's clothes, on Leon's and Lancelot's chainmail. They had managed to get a few sips of water down his throat, but when they finally got it past his clenched teeth- the first sign that he was feeling pain- due to Percival holding his jaw open, they realized worriedly that he wasn't swallowing. When it became evident that he wasn't just taking his time, and that he needed to breathe soon, Gwaine hurriedly rubbed his throat up and down, trying to stimulate the muscles into the movements that were supposed to be automatic. Eventually the gratifying sound of water going down the esophagus was heard, along with the feeling of his Adam's apple going up and down once. The movement seemed to somehow exhaust those particular muscles, but at least he now had some water in him.

Until he threw it back up ten minutes later, the clear liquid now tinged pink with blood.

They only left his side to answer nature's call, and even then, they prolonged it as much as possible to avoid leaving him. They didn't eat anything all day, and the same went with water. They stayed there, in a grassy clearing in the middle of the forest, somewhere in Cenred's land, not leaving the confines of said clearing for hours on end, all completely focused on keeping Merlin comfortable and warm.

And to think, a mere five years ago, he had been 'just a servant', new to Camelot and a total idiot and waste of space in Arthur's eyes.

And now, here that same 'waste of space' was, and here Arthur was, screaming inside and begging him for hours to please, just wake up and be okay. That single boy had changed Arthur for the better, in ways it seemed impossible to even believe, he had wormed his awkward way into each of their hearts, had saved Arthur's life and the life of his kingdom multiple times, had comforted him, been a friend to him, and had saved him from Mordred's and Agravaine's treachery.

He and his queen were still grieving from their second stillbirth, and now they might well be burying another loved one, all within the space of a year. He _needed_ Merlin's support still, because sometimes the grief and stress would just be too much for even Guenivere to help with, as she was still grieving, herself; but Merlin could always get through to him and reassure him. He needed him.

By the fifth hour, his breathing was shallow and his pulse was weak, and blood was being coughed up at a much more rapid rate. They were really surprised he had made it this long, and that he had so lost so much blood for such a light person.

After tenderly wiping bloody spittle from the young man's chin for the eleventh time that hour, Gwaine finally spoke up after so long in silence.

"Mates, I don't like this. I don't like watching him suffer so. There's nothing left for us to do, a-and all his magic's doing is keeping him alive when-" he stopped short, choking a little, before finishing quietly, "-when he needs to let go."

Arthur winced, growling slightly in the back of his throat. The other knights glared at the drunkard.

"Please, the lad's suffering horribly! H-he doesn't deserve this! I know w-we don't want to let him go, bu-but it's his time, brothers. I think we'd be doing him a kindness if- if we put 'im out of his misery." He stated, a tear sliding down his cheek.

And then they realized that it was just as painful for him to suggest it as it was for them to consider it. He loved Merlin like a little brother, and had known him for longer than some of them; they could only imagine how he was really feeling under his mask of calm sadness.

But no, they couldn't just let Merlin go out of nowhere.

"Gwaine's right. This is unnecessary cruelty. There's no chance of recovery, not this time." Said Lancelot, and they all turned teary gazes to Arthur. It was his call, as always. He swallowed and tried to dislodge the lump in his throat.

"No, we can't-" He started, but caught himself. He sighed, looked down to the still face in his arms. Took in the blood escaping his friend's lips yet again. The pained way his eyebrows knit together and released.

And then several shocked gasps drew his attention from the boy's face, to his knights, all of which were staring at Merlin's torso. He slowly lowered his gaze to Merlin's chest, fearing the worst.

Golden tendrils of flowing light emerged from the warlock's chest- from his heart- reaching higher and higher into the evening breeze, towards the skies. It shimmered like gold, but was almost transparent simultaneously. It performed intricate dances never before witnessed, writhed like a living being and weaved like a wave on the rowdiest ocean. It was awe-inspiringly beautiful. It was magic. Pure magic.

And then there was a gasping from Arthur's legs, where Merlin was moving frantically, biting his lip while trying not to scream out.

"Merlin!" They shouted, thrilled that he was waking. He barely heard them though, only the concerned cries of his Once and Future King.

"Mmh…" He moaned, opening his eyes, which were bright gold, brighter than they had ever been before. They almost hurt to look at.

"NO!" Merlin suddenly screamed, and the golden magic grew taller even faster, the swirling and dancing becoming swift, blurry movements. His eyes glowed pure golden, and his breathing increased in his panic.

"NO! Don't leave me!" He screamed again, his throat rubbing raw.

"Whoa, Merlin, what's wrong?" Arthur asked. Merlin turned his glowing eyes to the king, who gasped as the color was slowly draining from the outer rings of his eyes and working inward, changing to blue as it went.

"M-my magic." The warlock answered, tears sliding down his face. Arthur realized what he meant. His magic was leaving him, like rats on a sinking ship. He became furious with the universe.

"Merlin, I'm here. We're all here, all of us." He soothed, running a hand over the younger man's forehead.

"Yes, Merlin, we're all here. We'll never leave you." Gwaine said with a smile, though his eyes spoke of pure agony. If his magic left, that meant he was leaving much sooner than they had thought. They weren't ready.

Merlin stayed silent for a moment, lifting his head as high as it would go in his weakened state, to look to each of his closest friends, excluding Gaius and Gwen. Finally, a weak- but genuine- smile reached his lips, and he lay his head back down as another wave of pain hit. He concealed it, though.

"Thank you." Was all he got out. But no more needed to be said. He knew he was going to die, and they knew he knew, and so there was nothing left to say. The simple thank you encompassed so much in their lives, and it meant the world to each of them. Elyan, the one with the littlest relationship with the Court Sorcerer, was surprisingly the one to speak.

"No, Merlin, thank _you_." And Merlin smiled wider- just barely. He nodded and closed his eyes for a moment.

He opened them again and looked at the group, then up to Arthur.

"Please don't leave me." He whispered. They all smiled kindly, tears gliding down their faces, and each placed a hand on his arms and legs, Arthur on his shoulder.

"We're here." By now his irises were fully blue again, the last ring fading away to nothing as the golden stream ended and flowed up into the sky, to the heavens. He had his own tears as well, but they soon turned to blood droplets running from his eyes. He watched his beloved magic, his very _being_, leave with such a resigned look, yet so full of longing. Arthur wanted so badly to grab his former manservant and never let him go.

But then, Merlin looked to up at him, and he was so full of peace, Arthur couldn't help smiling. Merlin was at peace, and by God he was going to stay that way.

And so, as Merlin's breaths became too shallow to detect and his heart slowly failed, he lay with his eyes softly closed, his head resting in his best friend's lap, without a care in the world. His friends were there, they would always be there for him, and he would be okay. Everything would be okay.

His breathing eventually stopped, and in those precious last seconds, he took one last glance at his closest friends. The sight of them all settled his final doubts, and from where he lay, he could see all of their faces. Perfect, he thought to himself earnestly. I'm so glad to have been in their lives.

He looked up into Arthur's face, his eyes saying all he needed to. _It's been a privilege to know you, to grow with you. I'll miss you, brother. _Arthur seemed to understand, and he nodded.

His final task done, Merlin relaxed himself and prepared to forever leave his broken, bloody body, and the only friends he had ever had. But he was never afraid.

His heart beat one last time, and the last image he saw was his friends, smiling fondly down at him, before his eyes slowly… drifted… shut.

And so, the most loving, caring heart in all of Albion finally beat its last.

The anguished roars of the Great Dragon could be heard from miles away as their age-old kinship was finally severed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Surprise, this isn't a death one-shot!**

**Never Quite Lost**

Arthur didn't try to suppress his sobs as his best friend slowly relaxed, then went still, dead in his arms. Carefully, he made his way from underneath the boy's body and went to his side, throwing himself on the warlock's chest and sobbing harder.

"Merlin!" He screamed, and soon his cries of anguish were joined by those of his knights, and the howling of wolves nearby.

They sobbed together for two hours straight, huddled around the mangled, pale body of the wisest, kindest person they'd ever know. Arthur didn't remember crying himself to sleep, but when he awoke, he was by the campfire, covered in his own cloak. It was getting lighter out, the morning slowly breaking the night's dark hold of the land. The others were nowhere in sight, but the supplies were still there.

Arthur stood, only to get a better view of his surroundings- and find the familiar, covered form of his friend's body. He gagged, and vomited on the nearby ground. The warlock's body was lying right by the tree line, and covered by Sir Gwaine's cape, still stained dark with Merlin's blood.

As a fresh wave of grief overcame him, King Arthur could only run, run until his legs were sore and his heart was pumping. The trees dashed by at a rapid pace, and he could barely focus on the ground in front of him. He came upon a larger clearing, and there he just so happened to stumble upon his loyal knights, building a pyre of sorts. He didn't need to ask what it was for; he just felt sick.

"Sire, we didn't mean to leave you." Leon said, approaching him cautiously. "But, um, we were about to… head back for Merlin… so, if you want to, I don't know, keep your distance, we'll understand." Arthur barely shook his head, half in a daze. Surely this wasn't real! Surely it's just a dream and I'll wake up to Merlin calling me 'lazy daisy'! Oh what he wouldn't give to hear those words again!

Losing Merlin was one thing, but burning him was a whole other.

So he stood there, hands behind his back, watching with teary eyes from a few feet away as the others carried the red-covered corpse from the trees and laid it on the wooden structure they had been up all night building.

The material was pulled back to reveal the ghastly white face, the stained red teartracks, the stiff limbs, and the gaping wound on his abdomen. It no longer bled, though the king didn't know why he would think it would in the first place.

Merlin's pack had been inspected, and they had gone through it thoroughly, taking the time to choose what should be returned to Hunith and what should be burned along with their owner.

They placed one of Merlin's few personal possessions, a miniscule glass jar on a chain, on his chest, and then placed a bouquet of various wildflowers (tied together by one of his spare neckerchiefs) by his side. Inside the small jar was a mysterious collection of tiny, folded-up pieces of parchment. Lots of them. Lancelot, curious and desperate for some distraction, had uncorked the little bottle and poured out its contents, patiently unfolding and reading each paper. They all had various names written on them, all in different forms of handwriting. Signatures.

The first- and by far the oldest- one was yellowed with age, and was the most memorable of them. A child's handwriting had scrawled, rather sloppily, _Mothhur._ Then, under that, in an adult's swooping handwriting, _Mama._ And then, the one most recently added to the slip of paper, _Hunith _was signed in the same swooping handwriting as the previous name.

Another one was signed _William, _in a different child's writing; and yet another read _Miss Maria_. Lancelot vaguely wondered who the last name belonged to.

He later found his own name among the horde of names, distantly remembering Merlin's cheeky grin as he asked the knight to sign his name on a slip of paper. He had done so, but with a raised brow the entire time.

After reading dozens more names, he finally realized what this necklace was. It symbolized every loved one, every friend, every family member Merlin had ever had; and by the looks of the cork keeping the slips in the jar, he had opened it quite often to read through the ones he already had and to add more.

Poor Merlin, so many of those names Lancelot had remembered belonging to the dead. For one so young, Merlin had surely seen more hardships in life than many others. And somehow kept a smile on his face the entire way.

As he approached the pyre that held what was left of his friend with torch in hand, his mind went back to that tiny jar, containing so much of young Merlin's life. It was sad enough a thought to bring tears to his eyes, but they didn't fall. He passed the flame to the king, who numbly set the wood ablaze.

They watched sadly as the flames licked at the red cloth surrounding the prone form, finally catching. And, much too fast to the knights and king, Merlin was eventually reduced to a pile of ashes.

Lancelot thought it was his imagination, but he could have sworn he had seen the purest golden light slowly ascending from Merlin's grave, up into the sky and over the trees.

He paid it no mind.

After all, he had a good friend's ashes to scatter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Alrighty, chapter 3!**

**Never Quite Lost**

The ride to Ealdor was very long, and very quiet. Even though they could have made it that day if they'd hurried, they rode slowly and tensely, not in any hurry to inform Hunith- such a sweet, wonderful woman- of her only child's death. They camped out in a small clearing for the night, and then set off again before dawn, their hearts heavy and their feet always dragging. Well, dragging when they weren't riding horses. Merlin's horse was tied to Gwaine's, following confusedly behind and it seemed to be asking, 'where's my rider?'

Merlin had always had a way with animals, especially Danimh, the problem mare of Camelot's stables. She bit and kicked anyone who came near her, yet with Merlin she was gentle, snuggly, even. Seeing her so heartbroken to be missing her friend was hard on the others, who were missing him even more so.

Gwaine rode silently, brooding. Out of all of them, Gwaine had changed the most, not speaking to anyone. He would start crying unprovoked, and would snarl at anyone who tried to talk to him about anything.

Arthur had stopped crying hours ago, now so grieved even tears couldn't express his sadness. He rode almost as silently as his knight.

'Stupid, stupid!' Arthur cursed himself for the umpteenth time that day. 'If I had just been there when Merlin needed me, he would still… still…' he couldn't finish the painful thought.

"_Help!_ Somebody _help me!_" Came a frantic scream from the trees ahead. Camelot's patrol snapped their heads up, worried expressions on their faces. They were five miles from their destination, and as they approached the source of the scream, it became obvious that this person was from Ealdor.

It was a woman, that much Arthur could tell, with a tan wrap around her hair and two locks of raven hair falling around her face, which was currently parallel with the ground, concealing her identity. Her clothes were that of a peasant, not raggedy but worn from work, and her feet had simple boots on them. She was on the ground, crouched around her middle, clutching her swollen abdomen. It was obvious from the size of her belly and her screams of pain that she was close to- if not already in- labor.

"We're here, ma'am. Calm down." Arthur said urgently, jumping down from his horse and kneeling by her. There was a small pack on her back and she was clearly travelling a distance.

"A-Arthur?" The woman gasped through clenched teeth. The king scrunched his brows together, wondering who this woman was and why she referred to him by his first name.

"Oh, it is you! Thank God above!" She cried in pure relief, jumping up and wrapping her arms around his neck. He froze and stumbled backwards for a moment before regaining his balance. Then, he hesitantly put his hands on her back to return the hug.

"Do I know you?" He asked, motioning for the knights to come closer. The woman finally pulled away, revealing a dirty face covered in tear tracks and the bluest eyes. Eyes he had only seen on two people in his whole life.

"Hunith!" He exclaimed happily, smiling down at her and hugging her again, all troubles forgotten for a moment. She smiled too, but then doubled over in pain, reminding them of her predicament.

Wait, Hunith was in _labor_?

Well, by the looks of things, they didn't have much time, so they had work to do right now.

"Percival, go get a cart from the village. A big one that Lady Hunith may rest in." He ordered, and the giant man nodded and rode off to the town. Meanwhile Arthur eased the pained woman to the ground, keeping comforting hands on her shoulders. She looked terrified, a new look for her. A slight smile lit up her face at being called 'Lady', but every other part of her face spoke of fear and pain.

"I didn't know you were pregnant, Hunith." Arthur commented with a smile, trying to cheer her up with his joke. It was kind of hard to miss the large stomach, and he had only seen her last month. To his surprise, she met his eyes solemnly, and said, "I wasn't pregnant yesterday."

"_What?_" Elyan cried. Hunith nodded while wincing.

"But…b-but how?" Arthur stuttered. Hunith looked frightened again.

"I don't know… I've been with no man, and I just woke up this mor- ARGH!- t-this morning, eight months along. A-and the town midwife is in Tarrensworth for a month, so I was g-going to see Gaius, but a few miles into my trip, my stomach started hurting, and I haven't felt something this painful since-" She cut off, a tear running down her flushed cheek. Arthur wanted to ask, but figured she meant Merlin's birth.

_Merlin._

How was he supposed to tell Hunith? She was already in pain, and he didn't want to risk hurting her further or depressing her. No, he'd tell her later.

"I-I was s-so afraid, I-I still am…" She panted, her hair sticking to the sweat on her face. "I-it couldn't b-be why I think it is, right?" She whimpered and Arthur had to support her lethargic weight.

"Arthur! I got the cart and some blankets!" Percival shouted as he came galloping down the dirt road, a large cart filled with hay hooked up behind him. Since Percival's horse was the strongest, he'd have to pull her to Camelot, to Gaius. The gentle giant reached down and lifted the tiny woman into his arms, placing her delicate frame into the hay-filled box, then surrounding her with blankets and placing a plank of wood to block the open side.

They rode off as fast as they could, trying not to wince each time they went over a bump, which in turn made Hunith groan. They couldn't imagine the pain she was going through, though Arthur imagined it could be compared to being stabbed. A few times. At least, if the pained yells were anything to go by.

Another bump.

Another groan.

Another wince.

Yep, he may have understated.

After half a day of riding furiously, they finally could see the mighty towers of Arthur's beloved kingdom.

"It's alright Lady Hunith, we're almost there…" Leon shouted over the screams and hoof beats.

Looking back, Arthur saw her nod from her nest of blankets, whining and clutching her stomach.

The guards at the main gates saw Arthur's frantic and determined gaze and knew- from lots of past experience- to let him pass without stopping. He led Percival hurriedly to the courtyard, while the others left their horses at the stables.

Percival gently carried Merlin's mother into the castle, placing a reassuring kiss on her sweaty forehead, making her smile a little. There was something about Hunith, something that made every man respect and want to protect her. Sort of like Merlin.

No, don't you _dare_ start thinking about that.

Arthur and his largest knight burst through the flimsy wooden door to Gaius' chambers, shouting the old man's name until he finally emerged from the storage room in the corner, herbs in hand and a raised brow. At the sight of his surrogate sister, he immediately went into physician mode and ushered them to the cot in the middle of the room, where Hunith was placed. Percival was sent away to inform the queen of their return. Hunith whimpered a bit, but remained where she was put. Arthur hated seeing such a strong woman so weak- so vulnerable.

Gaius set to asking her questions; each of her answers surprised him more and more.

"How long have you known?"

"Ten hours."

"Are you having back pains?"

"No. All in my stomach."

"How long has the pain been going on?"

"Since this morning."

"Have you been drinking any water?"

"Some."

"So, you're eight months pregnant overnight?"

"Apparantly."

"Are you aware that you're bleeding?"

"What? NO!" She shouted, maternal side showing. She hadn't known this child for more than a day and already she was in love. Arthur was confused as to why she was so upset about bleeding. Didn't that mean the baby was coming? The sorrow and the haunted look her eyes gained told another tale.

"What's the matter? Gaius, what's wrong?" He demanded of the elderly physician. "What does that mean?"

Gaius gave him a worried look and gave Hunith a towel to staunch the blood flow while he pulled the young king aside.

"Sire, excessive bleeding like that and stomach pains mean that she may have miscarried." Arthur's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth in an 'o'.

Without another word, Gaius shepherded him out the door, closing it behind him and setting to work stopping the bleeding.

Arthur stayed in the hall, however, on the bench by the far wall. Hunith was the only thing left of Merlin now, and he loved the woman anyways. She was like the mother he never had. He had to make sure she and the miracle baby were okay.

His head spun with thoughts, worried thoughts that made him nauseous.

What if the baby was fine? What if Hunith delivered it, but it killed her in the process? She may look young, but she certainly wasn't the right age for child-bearing anymore. What if it was born with a birth disorder? What if it was still-born? He couldn't stand the thought of Merlin's mother going through what he and Gwen had.

Speaking of which, here was the queen now.

Dressed in a regal crimson gown, Guenivere looked so beautiful, his angel. She sat next to him, placing a kiss on his lips before quietly asking what was going on. He explained everything, before coming to the hardest part.

"Gwen… Merlin's… he's…" He started, a single tear slipping down his pale cheek. Gwen gasped, placing both hands over her mouth and sobbing into his shoulder.

"Gaius, I don't want to go through this like I did last time!" They heard Hunith cry, then heard Gaius' robes swishing as he went to the distraught woman's side.

"Now, Hunith, you didn't lose him, remember?" There was a wet chuckle, and a few sniffles.

"Yes, well, it's rather hard to forget that." She chuckled again, taking a calming breath.

"Gaius, I think… I think I might know what's happening. I just hope to God that I'm wrong."

Arthur and Gwen looked to each other, perplexed. Last time? Had she almost lost another child? What was going on? She knew, did she?

They dried their eyes as Gaius came out, addressing them both.

"Hunith and the child are both fine. With some time, she'll be back to health."

"May we speak with her?" Gwen asked. She sounded so hopeful. Gaius raised the infamous eyebrow.

"Majesties, she is tired and must have her rest."

"But this is of utmost importance!" Truthfully, Arthur was just completely curious and really wanted to know what the heck was going on.

"Gaius, dear, I'm alright to talk. I'm sure they want to know what's going on." Came Hunith's voice, sounding stronger than before. Gaius shrugged, ushering them through the door before exiting 'to gather more ingredients.'

Gratefully, the royal couple ran inside, each giving the tired-looking woman a soft hug before sitting in the rickety chairs placed by the bed for visitors. Gwen kept eyeing the woman's stomach with wide eyes.

"So, Hunith, please explain!" Arthur begged in a very undignified way. The woman's loving face morphed into a fond smile, before it went totally blank.

"First I must ask you both a question. I expect you to answer honestly." The monarchs exchanged confused looks once again, quite worried for the woman.

"Okay."

"Do you swear to tell me the complete and uncensored truth, Arthur Pendragon?"

"I swear on my life." He said right away, meaning every word. Hunith relaxed slightly, but her face never changed.

"Is Merlin dead?"

"…_what?"_ Arthur whispered, and Gwen covered her mouth in shock. The king could see the pain in the mother's eyes, and knew she was prepared for the worst. So, he took a deep breath, put on his brave face, and answered.

"Yes." Hunith's face then did a mixture of things. She showed great pain, great loss, sorrow, denial, but then there was also… relief?

"Alright. My… son… has passed." She said, her voice wavering with emotion.

"Hunith, I know it's not my place, but you seem to be taking this a bit… too well." And it was all true. Even as king it would never be his place to interfere with Hunith's life choices, with the way she acted, with the way she chose to care for her son or herself. She had earned that respect from him.

It was also true that she was taking the news too well. While Arthur always hoped the families of fallen soldiers would take it well, he suddenly realized how much he preferred the screams of anguish and loss to this stony silence and acceptance. Then at least he knew what he was dealing with.

"It… it is nothing, my Lord. Think nothing of it. I am tired, 'tis all." She apologized, making him suspicious.

"Ahm, Hunith, when we were in the hallway, waiting, we heard you say something about 'not wanting to go through this again'? What did you mean, if it's not too much to ask." Gwen inquired delicately, and Hunith looked pained for a moment before turning to look out the window, thinking.

"No, it's just a bad memory, 'tis all. But I suppose the way to defeat the bad memories is to share them. Alright, I'll tell you. It was twenty-two years ago, and I was around eight months pregnant with my firstborn, my precious babe." She smiled lovingly and rubbed her stomach.

"Merlin." Gwen said.

"Aye. I was so very thrilled to be having a child! I had always wanted some of my own. And to have a small piece of Balinor with me, it just served as quite a comfort for me. So, I was due at any time within four weeks, and then I had this awful pain in my stomach. Naturally, I'd thought I was in labor a bit early. The midwife was called for, but by the time she had gotten there, I was sitting in a pool of blood." She recounted, shivering slightly. "I almost lost 'im. My precious little babe and I had almost lost 'im. They had to give me a potion to start labor, or he would most certainly die. He was born three weeks early, a premature baby. That's what they call bairns who are born too early, so they're generally less developed and smaller; and they stand a greater risk of sickness and death, since they're so weak.

So, my little Merlin was premature. They told me that, coupled with his almost-miscarriage, he stood little chance of survival. The villagers all told me not to name him, not to get too attached.

He was a tiny little thing, too! Oh so tiny. He was so thin, I could count every rib in 'im, and his fingers were so thin and long! His stomach barely held that newborn fat, and it took him twice as long to hold his own head up; his neck muscles were too weak and underdeveloped. I too was starting to have doubts about the little one's survival.

But then, a miracle. His little eyes turned more golden than the mightiest king's crown, and then he gained an extra two pounds in three days (more than he'd ever gained), just giving him enough insulation to make it through the winter. And after that, even though he was still on the small side, my little Merlin learned to run and jump and play and sing and read! He not only survived, he _thrived_.

My son, my little survivor." She added as an afterthought. By the end of her story, Gwen had tears in her eyes, and Arthur was staring like you wouldn't believe. Merlin, almost miscarried? That would have been horrible! They would never have met, Arthur would have died a prattish prince, and Hunith would have been so miserable in life!

The queen leaned forward, placing a hand atop Hunith's and looking her in the eyes intensely.

"Hunith, I am so sorry that you had to go through that terror. I know that you and your new baby will be taken care of here, don't worry. I'll never let that happen to you ever again." She promised. Hunith smiled and placed a motherly kiss on the girl's forehead.


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, so just a forewarning:**

**-I SUCK at childbirth scenes, so heads up.**

**Anyways, on with the show!**

**Never Quite Lost**

"AARGH!"

"Peace, Hunith. All will be fine."

Hunith's cries of pain and Gaius' words of comfort could be heard from the hallway in which Arthur and Gwen now waited.

It had been two days since Arthur and the knights had taken the woman to Camelot, and since then she had been moved into her own personal room with an attached nursery.

Gwen had been the one to find her, huddled on the floor and crying out as her child decided it wanted to be born, _right now_. The Court Physician had run faster than any of the servants had ever seen, and now all the Pendragons could do was wait.

Hunith had been so discouraged; this would be Merlin's birth all over again. More than four weeks earlier than was healthy, with some pretty discouraging odds. Although, Gwen had made sure the odds were considerably better than with Hunith's first birth, with lots of clean water at their disposal, a warm room to stay in, unlimited food, and a clean environment.

The heavy oak door was opened, and Gaius stepped out into the hall, beckoning for Guinevere.

"Malady, she could use your support right about now." He said, and the queen hurriedly nodded and rushed inside, leaving her husband to wait and worry.

She sat in the chair by the bedside, taking Hunith's outstretched hand in her own and using her other hand to wipe a cold cloth across the woman's sweaty brow. Merlin's mother was dressed in a sleepdress, her hair held back by a kerchief and her face clean of its previous grime. Sometimes she arched her back; sometimes she cried out loudly and threw back her head. Servants bustled around the room, heating water and closing curtains, handing Gaius the things he requested.

After half an hour of on and off contractions, Hunith laughed weakly.

"No matter how small he is… he never is one… to make things… easy!" She said to Gaius, who smiled somewhat sadly. The underlying silent conversation suggested that they both knew something that the queen was not aware of.

"Now Hunith, how do you know it's a boy? It could very well be a girl." She asked kindly, humoring the probably delirious woman. Hunith winced as she powered through another pain.

"No, this'n is most certainly a boy." She said resolutely. Gwen held her hand up in surrender.

"Alright, whatever you say."

As yet another wave of agony ripped through her time-wearied body, the dark-haired woman shouted and gripped the queen's hand even tighter.

"How much longer, Gaius?" Gwen demanded, worried for the older woman's health. The old physician checked, then informed her that it would be soon.

Hunith grit her teeth and curled up slightly.

"Argh… Dammit, Merlin!" She cried, her eyes squinched shut.

"Merlin?" Gwen asked. Hunith opened her eyes and realized her mistake.

"Guenivere, now is not the time." Gaius reminded her, and she nodded with a silent oath to get her answers later.

After much screaming, sweating, pushing and praying, Hunith finally felt something she hadn't felt in twenty-two years. The significant feeling of something _leaving _her body, something she was comfortable with, and yet not.

"Oh my, Hunith, you were right!" Gwen exclaimed cheerily, trying to brighten Hunith's spirits. She knew how much the process had weakened her. "It's a boy!"

Gaius gingerly held the baby, patting his back gently- since he was so fragile- trying to get a cry out of him. When the last of the amniotic fluid was expelled, there was a tiny whimper, just enough to signify breath. The queen noticed how the aged man raised a concerned brow, and after reassuring the new mother, went over to his side as he cupped lukewarm water in his hands and rinsed it over the tiny infant.

As he was working, the gushing of the nearby maids could be heard as they spared oft a passing glance at the newest baby.

"Oh, he's a thin one!"

"Just look at those long fingers!"

"Smaller than the king was, that 'n!"

"And look at that hair!"

"Yeah, black as a crow's wing, 'tis!"

Their cooing reminded Hunith of Merlin's birth all too well.

~oOo~

"_Oh, Hunith! 'e looks just like 'is father! And look, he's got so much hair on 'is li'l head!" Crooned the midwife, Alaye, as she performed the usual tests on the newborn boy. She listened to his lungs, his heart, counted all fingers and toes, peeled back his eyelids for a quick check on his eyes, and cleaned him, before wrapping him in as warm a blanket as their small village could provide. Hunith was just so tired, and ignored the woman as she tuttered about, trying to give the new mother some hope for her son's survival._

"_His lungs and heart 're a little weak, and his muscles aren't quite finished developing, but he's as healthy as he can be in this situation. Ten little fingers and ten little toes, and he's got quite good eyes, as well!" Alaye continued, passing the child to his mother and watching with a sad smile as the woman held him close, crying silently._

_He was so beautiful, with a head covered in inky hair- a trait inherited mostly from Hunith, and round little cheeks still red and soft from birth. He lay against her chest, quietly dozing, his tiny lungs wheezing as they struggled to process oxygen for the first time. His long little legs were thin and gawky, reminding her of a baby bird._

"_Merlin." She hummed deeply to her child, and his eyes opened at the sound of his mother's voice. He awkwardly jerked his head to try and see where mother was, but it soon became apparent that she would have to help him. She shifted him in her arms so he was laying looking up at her. She gasped as she gazed upon his eyes for the first time._

_They were Balinor's eyes, most definitely. But, they had more layering to them as well. While her eyes were brown, Balinor's were bright blue. Merlin's eyes weren't the expected baby blue of each newborn, but a dark navy ring around the outsides and then ocean blue on the insides, with little flecks of brown here and there. He gazed up at her blurry form contentedly, just laying there; absorbing her scent and enjoying the comforting sound of her voice._

"_Hello, my little bird." She sang, her exhaustion and pain completely forgotten._

~oOo~

That particular memory brought a teary smile to her face, and she lay back in the mountain of pillows while she waited to hear the verdict. She kept the happy memories of her son's childhood in mind, flicking through them to keep the worry from taking hold.

Gwen glanced back at her sorrowfully, before crouching by Gaius across the room and watching as he continued a more thorough examination on his new patient.

"Gaius, what's the matter?" She asked as he frowned again. The man looked to her with a sigh.

"His lungs, they're too weak. It sounds like he has some sort of liquid still in them. And from the way he's wheezing, I'd say there's some tissue damage as well." He explained as his hands deftly wrapped the skinny little thing in a cloth diaper, then in a soft blue blanket. The whole time, the babe remained silent, staring up at the two foreign people above him with intelligent eyes.

"Will he be alright?" Gwen asked. Gaius sighed again, watching the tiny face without looking up.

"If he survives the next month, then he should be alright after. Although I fear he may always have weak lungs, possibly limiting his activities. Time will tell." With that, he stood and held the child to him, carrying him over to the large bed and placing him in his mother's outstretched arms.

As she gazed into his eyes for the first time, she gasped.

They were most certainly Balinor's eyes. While hers were a light brown, the boy's eyes were a navy ring around the outside, ocean blue on the inside with small brown flecks here and there.

They were identical to Merlin's.

"Oh Gaius," she whispered, awe-struck, "I had thought it wouldn't be the same this time, but he's just as perfect and beautiful as he was before." She smiled numbly, the past few days finally catching up to her.

"Before? Hunith, please tell me what is going on!" Gwen cried, frustrated. Hunith looked to her and smiled pityingly, nodding her head slowly.

"Alright. First, please take my son." Gwen nodded and gently took the bairn into her arms, adjusting the blankets around his face. He looked up at her with amazingly blue eyes, and cooed a bit. He weighed no more than five pounds, but he sure was lanky!

"He's beautiful, Hunith." She said, a smile in her voice. The mother smiled wider.

"Aye, he is. Now, please go fetch King Arthur. I'm sure he'd like an explanation as well." Gwen looked at her hesitantly, wondering if she should really be walking with a vulnerable baby. She had never done it before, after all. Hunith gave her an encouraging nod, and so she took a deep breath and began to walk smoothly, trying not to jostle her cargo.

The doors were opened for her as she continued walking, revealing a clearly agitated Arthur, hunched over with his face in his hands. At the sound of approaching footsteps, he leapt to his feet, a smile of relief making its way to his face at the grin his queen wore, then transforming into a look of confused awe at the squirming, wheezing bundle in her arms.

"Is that…?" He asked breathlessly, looking down into the tiny face.

"Yes. It's a boy." She replied, bouncing the child a bit to calm his movements.

"What's his name?" To this, Gwen sat silently, not having thought of that herself.

"I… He doesn't have one, yet, I guess."

"Why? Guenivere, he _will _survive, Hunith knows that right?" The queen gave him a hopeful look. Then the king noticed the child was still wheezing.

"…Gwen, why is he breathing so loudly?" Arthur asked worriedly. Gwen looked down to the bundle as it struggled to breathe, not answering her husband. With a look of understanding, the king nodded solemnly.

So, together, they made their way to Hunith's bedside, Gwen acting as though to hand the baby back to its mother, but pausing when Hunith held up a hand.

"Wait, first I must do something." She said, reaching into a pocket of her sleep-dress. She pulled out a small necklace, clasping it around her neck with shaky, tired hands. Then she held out her arms and received the newborn. The two royals sat in the chairs provided.

"Hunith, what is going on?"

"I was unsure of that myself, until earlier this morning. Now, I know it is him." She said thoughtfully.

"'Him' who?" Arthur inquired. Hunith cradled her fussing baby closer.

"Merlin."

"… what the deuce is that supposed to mean?"

"Arthur, calm yourself. She will explain." Gaius reprimanded from the other side of the bed, where he was cleaning his various medical instruments. Arthur slowly backed off, and his wife placed a steady hand on his shoulder.

"It was back when Merlin was just a few months old." She began, a wayward tear making its way down her face. "Balinor had long since left, and I had worried for a while about him. Merlin had finally learned to lift his head, and he had just recently revealed that he had magic.

I had to always keep him with me. Since Balinor and I hadn't married before he left, our son was considered a sin in our village. Only a few people actually accepted him, but they were all field-workers and so I had had to keep him strapped to my back as I too worked the harvest. I had wandered into the forest to find some water, when I came upon a large clearing, with strange markings carved in the tree trunks nearby and in the dirt. Before I could get a closer look, there was a mighty roar and then I stood before a dragon. A very large golden dragon.

I couldn't run. I was frozen on the spot, and feared for our lives. Then, the dragon spoke to me. He said, 'Peace, Hunith of Ealdor. I come bearing a message from my dragonlord, Balinor.' That, of course, got my attention. 'He says not to fear for him, for he is in good health and is in hiding.' Then he sniffed the air with his large snout and smiled at me with jagged teeth. 'I sense young Emrys is with you.' When I asked him what that meant, he explained how my son was the prophesied Emrys, the most powerful warlock of all time. He told me of his destiny, to guide and protect the Once and Future King. 'Wise dragon,' said I, 'I fear my son may not survive this year's winter. I am afraid he will die. And when the other villagers find out his magic, they'll burn him for sure.' He chuckled at me, and I couldn't help pulling Merlin closer to myself. 'Do not worry about your son's life.' Said he, 'the universe cannot be lacking him. Without him, the Once and Future King will never reach his destiny. He will live for thousands of years, so he may protect his King and the land of Albion. Now, that does not mean he cannot die, for he can. But if he does before his time, his magic will surely preserve him, and give him new life.'

But my little Merlin did survive, and until this day, I had held the dragon's words as nonsense. But now I am certain of their truth."

Gwen stared at her in shock, not knowing what to say. It was Arthur who spoke.

"How are you so certain? What sign have you that Merlin is… is alive?" He demanded. Gaius and Hunith exchanged a knowing glance.

"I received my answers early this morning. I sat in my chair by the window, watching the busy marketplace as so many people scurried about. Suddenly, a large bird fluttered into the windowsill, sitting there and staring at me. I was unafraid, however, because I had experienced this same thing if but only once before. It was a falcon, dark in color and a bit smaller than other falcons, and he held something in his claws. He flew in, dropped his treasure in my lap, and flew away. It was then that I knew."

"What did it give you?" She removed one hand from under her baby, then passed him to Arthur, who awkwardly held him in his hands before Gwen guided him to his chest. Arthur smiled softly a bit, gently bouncing the babe a little and studying his sleeping face.

Hunith held up the small bottle at the end of the silver chain.

"It brought me this." She held it up for them to see, and both vaguely recognized it as the necklace the manservant had once worn around his own neck, sometimes hidden under his kerchief. Arthur remembered it as the necklace Merlin had burned with.

"Yes, that was Merlin's. But what did it tell you?" Arthur was still confused, but realization slowly dawned on the queen's face.

"The bird, Arthur, was a merlin." And then he too gained a look of realization.

"It means that… Merlin's alive! He must be out there, somewhere, and he must have sent it to you as a message! We should send out search parties at once!" He exclaimed, jumping to his feet but immediately stopping and sitting back down at Hunith's warning hand. The baby barely moved a muscle before falling into a deeper sleep.

"No, your majesty, that is not the message it was meant to deliver." She calmly said. Gaius sat on the bed by Hunith's feet, watching the royal couple as they blinked in confusion.

"The only other time I had experienced the bird's visit, sire, was hours from Merlin's birth, many years ago. It's what inspired me to name him what I did." Hunith really was hoping that they would figure it out on their own, but it became clear that they were only growing more frustrated when they couldn't. She had told Gaius everything yesterday, and so they were the only ones who knew.

At the name 'Merlin', the baby opened his eyes, fixing the king of Camelot with his piercing gaze. Arthur blanched at how similar his eyes were to his best friend's, swallowing the heavy emotions and smiling weakly at the mother.

"He certainly looks just like Merlin's little brother." He said.

By now, Gaius was visibly irritated at how slowly they were catching on, if they even were catching on at all. He stood up with an exasperated sigh.

"That _is _Merlin, boy! How did you _not _figure that out?" He cried. Arthur stared at him, silent. Then he burst into a fit of laughter, until his wife punched him in the arm.

"_Arthur._ Do you honestly think _Hunith _would make a joke regarding her _son's death?_" She accused, mortified. While it was hard to take in at first, Gwen knew deep down that it had to be true. Hunith had never lied to her before, and it also _did _explain quite a few things.

Arthur frowned, abashed, and looked down to avoid eye contact with the others- of course then making accidental eye contact with the baby he had completely forgotten about moments ago.

If this is Merlin, Arthur thought, what does that mean? Will he remember anything of his first life? Will he still have his magic? If he were raised differently, would his whole personality change? What about Hunith? She's certainly too old to re-raise him! And with his lungs the way they are, would he survive living in Ealdor?

His worried thoughts must have shown on his face, or maybe in his energy- he had read that children could tell how you felt by the energy you gave off- because the tiny baby in his arms started crying, voicing the emotions that Arthur was feeling inside. Panicking, the king looked to each of the adults around him for help. Hunith chuckled in a motherly-love kind of way.

"Arthur, dear, this is Merlin, remember? He's just the same now, as a newborn, as he was as an adult. Give him a hug, and give him affection." She encouraged, and he did as told. Carefully- he was so terrified he would break the skinny little baby- he brought him up held him against his chest, placing his round little head on his shoulder.

Merlin's skin was so warm against his shoulder, and just his presence seemed to calm Arthur. The same went with the child, whose only noises now were wet wheezes. But hearing the pitiful excuse for breathing just brought back memories of Merlin's final hours, when he spent so much energy trying to breathe around the blood filling his punctured lungs. That thought made him miss the Merlin he knew, and even though Baby Merlin was better than No Merlin, he still shuddered and got lost in his dark thoughts.

A tiny, chubby, long-fingered hand pressing against his face made him snap back to reality, and Gwen laughingly told him that Merlin wanted to stop being hugged. Complying, Arthur brought him down, holding him upright in front of himself with his hands holding the newborn's head up and staring into his blue eyes. The baby reached a wavering hand up to his face, pressing a single finger to a spot on his cheek. Then, stunning Arthur, the infant's eyes flashed a brilliant gold and suddenly the tears that had been unknowingly been flowing down his face were gone. Dissipated.

Merlin dropped his hand then, looking directly into Arthur's eyes once more with such intensity for one so young. The king looked up to Hunith and Gaius, eyes wide.

"Did he just use magic?" He asked. Gaius chuckled.

"Did he?"

"Well, yes, I suppose. I mean, he made my tears disappear and I could have sworn his eyes had changed color. But surely it's impossible for him to use it so early on?" Now it was Hunith's turn to chuckle.

"Arthur, dear, Merlin was born with it, remember? Before, he had used it at a month old. Though I admit it is earlier than last time, it doesn't quite surprise me."

"Does anything?"

"Hey, you try having him for a son. I tell ye, he was a random one."

They all laughed.

"Yes, he probably used magic. In fact, I'm pretty sure the only reason I feel well enough to discuss this with you is because of him. He sensed my pain and weakness and gave me strength."

Arthur was struck by the strangeness of this conversation. A newborn warlock. That was definitely a first for him. As he gazed down at the delicate being in his arms, he couldn't help wondering what evil Uther could have seen in this race. He had killed hundreds of thousands of innocent little children just like little Merlin, just for having powers they did not ask for. It made him sick to think about, but once again sensing his other half's sadness through some secret psychic link, baby Merlin reached an uncoordinated hand up to his cheek; he held his palm to it and splayed his fingers unlike last time, and, knowing what would happen next, Arthur watched in awe as the hours-old infant's blue eyes began to glow steadily; the bright gold of pure, uncontrolled magic of innocent children. His little hand began to glow against his cheek as well, and as they all watched quietly, Arthur began to brighten, dark thoughts pushed very far back in his mind and happy feelings and simplicity going through it instead. Merlin dropped his little arm back to his side, falling into a deep sleep within seconds, still wheezing pitifully.

Gaius came over and took the babe from the king's arms, relishing a moment with his adopted nephew before passing him to his mother to be nursed.

As they all left the room, not one of them could seem to find a reason to stop beaming.

**I know I made Gwen and Arthur seem a little stupid in that one part. I know most of you probably figured it all out a few thousand words ago. But, if you think about it, to ya'll it's just a story. You expect crazy things like that to happen. But for the characters I'd imagine it would be rather far-fetched and impossible to guess for someone to technically be reborn.**

**Anyways, hope I cleared that up alright.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Guys, before I say anything else, I would like to point out how disappointed and discouraged I am by the lack of reviews. I heartily appreciate your follows, favorites, and such, but reviews are very satisfying as well, and let me know what I'm doing right and what you think needs to change. Feedback is the only profit I get from this, and I'd love to get lots of it! I wanted to thank the one person who left a review, but it isn't letting me type your name! You know who you are!**

**Author note: this chapter contains Gaelic singing in it. I know only Colin Morgan is Irish, not Merlin, but I thought it'd be cool if he was bilingual and had different ancestry.**

**The song sung in this chapter is called **_**Sleepsong **_**by Secret Garden, and it's originally in English even though it's a Gaelic lullaby. I translated it (and all other Gaelic) using Google Translate, so any grammatical/other errors may be blamed on that.**

**Never Quite Lost: Lullaby**

"Oh, Merlin, you must sleep, child!" Hunith exclaimed, pacing the length of the nursery and trying to be heard over the incessant wailing. The ruckus had drawn a few servants, all young women with a soft spot for children, each offering their assistance and each being turned down by the weary mother of the week-old babe.

Merlin ignored her pleas, continuing to cry loudly, fat tears rolling down his round face and his arms flailing in his displeasure. He would pause in his crying every few seconds to cough horribly, sometimes having mucus come from his lungs. If he continued on this way, Hunith feared it could cause more damage to his already weak lungs.

And she could also use some sleep.

Only after a half hour of this did Queen Guenivere happen to be walking by the noisy chambers, right when Hunith had had enough.

"Tost, leanbh! Ní mór duit a chodladh!"Hunith cried, accidentally slipping into Gaelic- her first tongue- like she did whenever she felt too intense an emotion. Gwen, hearing her outburst and not having known that Hunith spoke Gaelic, was curious, to say the least. Creeping closer to the slightly-opened door, she lowered herself quietly onto the hallway bench, listening intently.

She heard the new(ish) mother sigh in frustration, before exhaling once more, but this time to relieve her pent-up stress. The infant in her arms had finally stopped crying after her outburst, watching her curiously and wheezing heavily. This gave the woman an idea.

"You like that, yeah? Is maith leat é seo?" The child made a contented coo, and Hunith smiled now that she had found his weakness.

"Conas mar gheall ar shuantraí, eh?" She gathered her thoughts, brought the memory of the words her mother had sung to her mind, and sucked in a breath, slowly rocking the child.

"Leag síos do cheann agus beidh mé a chanadh tú shuantraí

Ar ais go dtí na blianta de loo-li Lai-ley

Agus beidh mé a chanadh tú a chodladh, agus beidh mé a chanadh tú amárach

Beannaigh tú le grá don bhóthar a théann tú"

She sang in Gaelic, her voice beautifully harmonious even after years without using it so. She made even Gwen want to sleep. The queen peered stealthily around the corner, watching as Hunith walked slowly back and forth, rocking little Merlin, whose eyelids were fluttering a bit. She could barely see the fond smile gracing the mother's face as she watched her precious baby. Her skirts swished rhythmically as she swayed in time to the lullaby.

"Go raibh tú ag seoltóireacht i bhfad go dtí na réimsí thall den fhortún

Le diamonds agus péarlaí ar do cheann agus do chosa

Agus is féidir riamh is gá duit misfortune a banish

Go raibh tú teacht ar cineáltas i ngach go gcomhlíonann tú"

Her voice was haunting and sweet to the ear. Gwen found herself swaying slightly as well. She watched with a smile as the babe- despite his tiredness- forced his eyes to stay open, watching his mother's mouth curiously as it made the pretty sounds. He was fascinated by it, enchanted even. He somehow knew deep down what she was generally saying- in his own simplified baby way- and also recognized the language of his mother only. The other big people sure didn't talk like that.

"D'fhéadfadh a bheith ann i gcónaí aingeal chun féachaint thar tú

Chun tú a threorú ar gach céim ar an mbealach

A garda tú, agus tú a choinneáil slán ó gach dochar

Loo-li, loo-li, Lai-ley"

Even in his obvious fascination, even being the mighty Emrys: all-powerful warlock, he still couldn't keep himself fully awake. His little eyelids closed, and he laid there in his mother's warm embrace, his face resting against her chest as he simply enjoyed the melodic sound of her voice, and the vibrations her singing caused in her chest; that mixed with the steady beat of her heart- a sound he knew quite well-, it created the most beautiful, most pleasing noise he had ever heard.

"Go raibh tú a thabhairt grá agus is féidir leat a thabhairt sonas

A bheith grá i filleadh ar deireadh do laethanta

Anois titim as a chodladh, nach bhfuil mé ag a chiallaíonn chun tú a choinneáil

Feicfidh mé ach suí ar feadh tamaill agus a chanadh loo-li, Lai-ley"

As she listened to the sweet lullaby that she didn't understand, Gwen could almost hear the violins and the harps playing along to the song. She wanted so desperately to understand what she was saying, what blessings she was placing upon her baby, so that maybe she too could someday learn it and sing it to her own babies. This thought brought a strong sense of grief with it, and she had to stifle her sobs to keep from being caught eavesdropping. She knew this was probably a very intimate moment between mother and son, but she couldn't help but enjoy it. She leaned her head back against the wall, closed her eyes, stopped thinking, and just _listened_, letting her grief wash away in the smooth river Hunith's song created.

"D'fhéadfadh a bheith ann i gcónaí aingeal chun féachaint thar tú

Chun tú a threorú ar gach céim ar an mbealach

A garda tú, agus tú a choinneáil slán ó gach dochar

Loo-li, loo-li, Lai-ley, loo-li, loo-li, Lai-ley ... "

She eventually reached the end, repeating 'loo-li, loo-li, lai-ley' and trailing off into silence. When Gwen looked again, Hunith was gently moving the miniature baby into a position where she could see his face; she smiled lovingly when she realized he was in a peaceful sleep. She placed a gentle kiss to his thick, curly head of hair before carefully laying him in his cot, covering him in his extra blankets before whispering, "Oíche mhaith, mo Merlin daor." And blowing out the lone candle in the room, then exiting through the small door opposite into her own chambers, bedding down for the night.

Gwen sat there for a long time, her heart swelling with so many emotions and warmth at the beautiful thing she had just had the privilege to witness.

And so, every once and a while, when she was feeling overwhelmed or upset, Queen Guenivere would simply start humming the haunting Gaelic lullaby and find herself in her happiest place.

´*。¨* ✫ " ✫. ¨¯*。. ¨*。¯` ¸.✫˚¯`

**This chapter was really more of a one-shot, but I promise there will be more of the main storyline to come!**

**Translations:**

**Silence, child! You need to sleep!**

**Do you like this?**

**How about a lullaby, eh?**

**(After Song) Good night, my dear Merlin.**

_**Sleepsong**_** English Version (Before I translated it to Gaelic/ Irish, whatever you wanna call it):**

**Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby Back to the years of loo-li lai-ley **

**And I'll sing you to sleep, and I'll sing you tomorrow **

**Bless you with love for the road that you go**

**May you sail far to the far fields of fortune, With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet, And may you need never to banish misfortune, May you find kindness in all that you meet **

**May there always be angels to watch over you, To guide you each step of the way, To guard you and keep you safe from all harm, Loo-li, loo-li, lai-ley**

**May you bring love and may you bring happiness, Be loved in return to the end of your days, Now fall off to sleep, I'm not meaning to keep you, I'll just sit for a while and sing loo-li, lai-ley **

**May there always be angels to watch over you To guide you each step of the way To guard you and keep you safe from all harm Loo-li, loo-li, lai-ley, loo-li, loo-li, lai-ley...**

**It's a very beautiful song, and I hope you will all listen to it!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Never Quite Lost: Home**

"Hunith?" Called Guenivere as she entered the woman's chambers. She was nowhere in sight. Gwen called for her again.

"I'm in here, milady." Hunith answered quietly, appearing from Merlin's nursery and making a motion for her to stay quiet.

"Is he sleeping?" The queen asked, tilting her head towards the room where the babe was. His mother nodded, looking relieved.

"Good. Arthur and I would like to speak with you." She started to lead the way, but stopped when she realized that Hunith wasn't following her. Her eyes were wide.

"Don't worry, I've sent for Hannah to watch him while we're gone. She's a wonderful nanny, I promise. Now, come along." Gwen said kindly, walking down the hall. With one last anxious peek at the sleeping baby, the older woman followed.

~oOo~

"So, Lady Hunith, what do you plan to do now, may I ask?" King Arthur asked from his throne next to Queen Guenivere. Hunith stood before them, hands clasped behind her back.

"Arthur, I am unsure. I suppose I must take him back to Ealdor since my home is there." He held in his childish protests. He _really _didn't want them to go.

"But, Hunith, you cannot raise a newborn infant on your own at your age! And how would he survive, with such harsh conditions and weak lungs? It's not logical." He said, trying to find some kind of reason he could use. Hunith smiled sadly.

"I am aware. But there are duties back in the village that I must get back to, or I will have no way to support us." Arthur got an idea.

"Lady Hunith, what if you were to stay here, in the castle? You could have work in the kitchens, and then you'd have nannies to watch Merlin while you worked." He smirked at his brilliant idea. Hunith had to admit; she did like the sound of living in the castle, with enough food and warmth.

"I would like that, but I cannot accept. I do not want my son raised by nannies. He needs to be raised by parents, not hired help."

This got Gwen thinking. Working in the kitchens was fairly easy work, but it lasted mostly all day, four days a week. They needed Hunith to stay, but she wouldn't stay without being able to do something in return- that's just the kind of woman she was. And servitude was out of the question- that meant leaving the castle frequently. There were no other jobs she could do. If only they had a set of parents who could watch Merlin while Hunith worked. Gaius could help out with studies and such, but as Court Physician he often dealt with dangerous diseases, and had to leave often as well.

Then she got another brilliant idea.

"Hunith, while you work, we'll take care of little Merlin." She announced, and Hunith smiled. Arthur, surprisingly, immediately nodded.

"Are you sure, majesties?" She asked, wondering if this was a good idea. It sounded nice, and she could see the longing in Gwen's eyes. Poor girl, she thought, lost so much. Her grin returned, her decision made.

"Alright. We will stay. I will start work in two weeks."

~oOo~

As Gwen and Arthur exited the throne room later that day, it was a combined effort to keep each other from doing something stupid in their giddiness. Finally, after so many pains and much sadness, they would be getting a child. Well, sort of.

Although this would be a joyous occasion for both, there was still much grief as well. Their two still-born, Milleah and Tobias, had forever taken a part of each of their hearts, leaving a large hole that would never be filled. Hopefully Merlin could at least do so partially.

But their jovial mood was once again tarnished that night, in their chambers. Gwen sat by her mirror, brushing her hair and watching her husband's reflection as he signed documents at the table.

"Arthur… I don't think I can do this." She said, placing the brush on the vanity.

"Do what?" Asked the king, not looking up and scribbling his signature absentmindedly on yet another document. The queen sighed and walked over, sitting in the chair beside him.

"Baby Merlin." At this, Arthur looked up to her face, where tears began to fall.

"Whyever not, my love?" He asked, concern in his voice.

"Because… the more I see him, the more I am reminded of Tobias. I think of what could have been, what never will be. They look so much alike, didn't you see? Blue eyes and dark, wavy hair. I'm scared, Arthur. What if I can't do anything right?" She began sobbing, covering her face with her hands with her elbows on the wooden table.

The king of Camelot frowned, before standing from his chair and kneeling by her side.

"Guenivere, you will be wonderful. Don't ever doubt yourself, hear? You are so intelligent and sweet and the perfect mother material. Merlin will have a wonderful childhood with you in it." He comforted, pulling her into his arms.

"Everything will be fine."

"Swear?" Arthur had to smile at the childish question, but nodded.

"I swear on my life, Guenivere." She looked up at him, and smiled too.


	7. Chapter 7

**Argos: Thank you so much for both of your wonderful reviews! Your enthusiasm is awesome! I'm glad you liked the song, and yeah, it's a definite favorite of mine as well! I am planning on doing a Merlin-Gwaine thing soon, so be sure to watch my next updates! I am so glad to have such a wonderful reader as you!**

**Hope ya'll don't kill me for the excess of Merlin whumpage.**

**Never Quite Lost: Breathe**

"Come on, Merlin! _Breathe_!" Gwen encouraged of the two-week-old as he struggled to take a breath, tears running down his cheeks and his eyes wide with panic. His shirt was stained with his own sick.

She kept him clutched to her bosom as she sprinted down the large hallways to the Court Physician's chambers. Her dark purple skirts flew high behind her, she was going so fast. She had long since lost her sandals in favor of going barefoot, to increase speed. The infant's face was turning blue, and his wheezes were thick enough to cut with a knife. Only about a tenth of the air he took in would actually reach his damaged lungs, and he in turn would cough harder, which in turn made his throat harder for breathing.

Guenivere practically bulldozed the thin wooden barrier that was the door and immediately started shouting.

"Gaius! Gaius, _help me!_" She screamed as Merlin grew weaker and his fingernails turned blue as well. She kept running, right up to the empty cot and laying the baby boy on top, holding his little head still, pinching his nose and breathing into his mouth, hoping to buy him some more time. A little more color was in his cheeks, but it still wasn't enough.

"_Gaius!_" She screamed helplessly again, tears now on her face as well.

"What is it, Gwen?" the elderly man demanded urgently as he stepped through the open door. Gwen sighed in relief and hurriedly ushered him over to the struggling child.

"Good Lord, Merlin!" The physician cried, and immediately set to work. With Gwen's help, Merlin's miniature baby clothes were removed, leaving him in his diaper. His tiny chest was shaking horribly and without a particular rhythm as he fought to process oxygen. The aged man sat him up, Gwen supporting his head, and began hitting his back as hard as he could with a baby, until a gob of bloody sputum flew from the baby's mouth and he sucked in a rugged breath. He then cried quite loudly, tears still falling. A nearby vase exploded, spilling its dusty herbs to the ground. He kept sobbing until his cries turned to hiccups, and he was breathing heavily.

"Atsa boy, Merlin." Gaius soothed, rubbing circles into the soft skin of his back. He went to a nearby table covered in who-knows-what, grabbed an herb and mixed it into a purple mixture, before instructing the queen to lay him back down. He poured the fowl-smelling concoction down his throat, and smiled in satisfaction when it was swallowed. He stepped back, running his eyes over Merlin and making sure he was alright.

The child sat there, vaguely noticing their presences with his poor eyesight, bringing his tiny feet up into the air and holding them with his hands.

"Gwen, please tell me what exactly happened." Gaius requested, and the queen nodded. He ushered her to a nearby chair, grabbed Merlin and sat across from her, the boy lying against his chest.

"Well, Hunith had gone into town to get some specific things for Merlin, and she asked me to watch him. I readily agreed, because I was currently unoccupied and love spending time with him." She began, tickling the infant's chin as she spoke. "I had just read him a short story, and was going to call for a maid to get him some food. I placed him in his cot, and then went out slightly into the hall and called Mari, and sent her to the kitchens. By the time I had returned, he was making the most horrible noises, and I couldn't get him to breathe! He vomited all over himself, and that's when I flung off my shoes, took him up, and ran here." Gwen finished. Gaius frowned thoughtfully, turning Merlin around so he was facing him.

"There may be more to his weak lungs than we thought, milady." He said cryptically. He stepped forward, placing Merlin in the queen's lap and waiting until her hands were holding him upright before beginning a more thorough medical examination.

He ran a finger down his naked back, tracing his spine. Turning him back around, he gently pressed a finger into the base of his ribcage, right over the thin scar marring the smooth skin, and stopping when the child cried out in discomfort. Gaius recalled Hunith's concerned remark a few days ago about the scar not having been there the last time.

"Guenivere, how did Merlin die?" He asked bluntly. She sucked in a breath and carefully pondered her words.

"Well, according to Sir Lancelot, he was stabbed from his abdomen and up into his ribcage." She said, a worried look on her features. Baby Merlin grunted as if in agreement. The physician snapped his fingers, as if he had just had an 'ah-hah!' moment.

"Gwen, when he died, there must have been considerable damage to his lungs. And the scar on his chest matches the description. His lungs are weak because they were permanently damaged in his past life!" Now Gwen was nodding thoughtfully, it did make sense.

"So, does that mean this will never go away?" Gaius looked down to his naked patient, who was flapping his arms in excitement over something or other.

"I do not know, my dear girl." He said sadly, placing a caressing finger against the fuzzy cheek. "But I can try and come up with a more effective tonic for him, maybe help him stay breathing easier. Come now, let's get him dressed in some clean clothes."

She and Gaius proceeded down the long corridors, back to Merlin's nursery, not caring about the strange glances they received. Once there, they both carefully pulled some clean, warm clothes over his lithe frame, and the Court Physician explained some things she could do when he had these attacks. By the time the discussion had finished, the raven-haired boy was asleep in Guenivere's arms, and she smiled lovingly down at him. Oh, how she wished she could have her own! No, she scolded herself, Merlin was her surrogate now, and she would treat him as such with no sadness.

Right then, of course, was when his little lungs decided they wanted to rebel again, and Merlin was left gasping for breath. Gaius was on his feet in an instant, snatching Merlin from Gwen's arms and holding him horizontally, his arm going under his legs and holding up his chin, with his tiny bum against Gaius' upper arm.

He had earlier told Gwen this was called the 'Quilt Hold', since the child looked so much like a quilt hanging on the drying line.

With his other hand, he began patting the boy's back lightly, bouncing him just slightly in hopes to dislodge whatever was blocking his trachea this time.

"Merlin!" Gwen cried. She tried helping by comforting the small child, speaking softly with reassuring words. It wasn't working. He had silent tears going down his face and dripping to the floor below.

"Quick, Gwen! Send for my kit!" Gaius ordered. Gwen hurried out into the hall, called a nearby servant over, and gave him instructions to get Gaius' supply kit, and hurry.

"Gaius! What's happened?" Came Hunith's demanding question as she rushed through the doorway, dropped her bags, and ran to the physician's side.

"He's got something blocking his airway." He explained, patting harder. The baby had began choking, slobber mingling with the tears leaving his face.

"Quick, give him to me." Hunith said, taking control and seizing her child from her surrogate brother. She brought him over her shoulder, hitting his back as hard as she could without harming him, and was rewarded with a giant gob of mucus, scar tissue, and blood being spit down her back and onto the floor.

The baby continued to sputter, though, and Hunith had to bring him down from her shoulder and press lightly on his chest, looking him directly in the eyes.

"Mac. Ní mór duit a ghlacadh anáil, Merlin!" She said in Gaelic. The child looked to her with curiosity before sucking in a raspy breath, then another, more powerful one and sobbing out loud.

"Oh, son, I know it hurts. I know it's scary. But you'll be alright. Beidh gach rud a bheith díreach fíneáil." He sobbed, frightened, into her neck, his fearful face making Guenivere cringe.

"Gaius, what is going on?" Hunith asked after her son was once again asleep. Gaius paused.

"Hunith, did you ever find out how your son died?" He asked. She raised her brow while her eyes became misty.

"No." She said determinedly. Her face was set harder than stone. "I never needed nor wanted to know." Normally they would have taken the cue to not discuss it, but she needed to hear.

"Hunith, he was stabbed. From the base of his ribs and up into the ribcage. He died from massive internal bleeding and punctured lungs. Now, you said that scar on his chest was new? It is most likely from when he was stabbed in his past life. It would also explain why he is coughing up scar tissue, blood and mucus. His lungs have been permanently damaged from that injury." The boy's mother stared at him, clenching her jaw.

"My poor Merlin." She finally said, looking down into the angelic face of the sleeping baby in her arms. He was as perfect as she remembered, with his rosy, round cheeks, a button nose with heart-shaped nostrils, thick eyelashes, full, red cupid's-bow lips, and his signature stick-out ears that barely fit him now, but would eventually grow at twice the rate as Merlin did. She could hardly bear to imagine this innocent, sweet creature going through such horror as her oldest friend had described. "My poor baby."

"Will it affect his life?" She asked. She couldn't handle his second chance at life being ruined because his first had ended in such a grisly way.

"I am afraid that it will for the first two decades or so of his life, if not more. But do not despair, sister, for I can easily create a tonic for him that will take the pain away and help him to breathe easier. His physical activities just might be more limited, 'tis all." He hurriedly reassured her before she could start wailing. At this, she nodded solemnly, bidding Gaius to hurry with the tonic's creation. He nodded and left the room, meeting the servant sent to bring his supplies half way and walking back to his own chambers with his kit in tow. Until he had come up with something to keep little Merlin alive and pain-free, he would not rest.

Back in the nursery, Gwen was assisting Hunith in getting Merlin ready for bed. It was early evening, and he would need lots of rest after today's episodes. While Hunith changed her son into some softer, more comfortable slacks and shirt, Gwen- thankful for her years of servant skills- efficiently changed the sick-stained sheets of his cot. When that was finished, he was gently placed inside, which caused him to stir a little and open his bright blue eyes.

He was upset, Gwen realized, but too tired to show it. Hunith had fed him less than an hour before, and his clothes and sheets had been changed, but he was upset at not being in his mother's arms. She could see from the longing in his eyes that he so desperately wanted to be _near _her, to hear her voice, her heartbeat, feel her work-worn skin against his, to smell her distinct scent, to see her cherished face. Babies at his age mainly preferred seeing faces to inanimate objects, could just barely focus their eyes to see faces a few inches away; and, magical or not, Merlin was no exception. Hunith seemed to notice this, too; she chuckled tiredly, and obliged. She held him softly in her arms and sat in the rocking chair, where she could be near the fire to keep the premature infant warm. She made sure to position him just close enough that he could see her face.

Seeing Gwen standing awkwardly, Hunith smiled fondly, and waved her over to the chair across from her. The queen settled her skirts around herself and got comfortable, smiling back to the older woman. They sat there silently for a bit, just rocking in their chairs, as Merlin stared up at his mother.

"I heard you singing to him a few days ago." Gwen commented, and Hunith smiled again.

"Really?"

"Yes, you have a beautiful voice." Hunith chuckled a little.

"Thank you. My mother used to sing that lullaby to me when I was very little. I sang it to Merlin too, and that's mainly how he learned Gaelic- through me, and the little things I would mutter when I thought he wasn't listening. See, I was originally from another small village, where Gaelic was the native language. I moved to Ealdor after ten years, and had to learn English. Merlin first learned English, but when he began repeating the phrases I would say sometimes and when he showed true curiosity, I taught him. It was quite a sweet thing to hear; he would always call me 'madra' because he thought it sounded like 'mama'. So he would walk around town calling me 'dog', and I would be the only one who understood what he was saying and start laughing. It was quite the sight!" She sighed happily at the memories.

Gwen sat silently for a moment before asking, "Are you going to teach him this time?"

"Aye. I think it would be good for him to be able to communicate with his extended family, since they're all Gaelic and will probably visit at some point. A lot of our heritage is Irish, and it is important for him to be a part of it. In fact, it may be his first language this time, depending on how frustrated he'll make me." She said with a wink.

"Will you teach me?" Hunith looked at her quietly, and Gwen blushed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have- I mean, I just thought it would be nice to know it and then I could talk to him in his native language and I also noticed he seems to listen more when you speak it so I thought-" Hunith held up a hand, silencing her.

"Calm down, dear. Of course I will teach you! I was just surprised you would even want to learn, since most wouldn't! I would be honored." Gwen bowed her head in thanks.

"Ah, Merlin! Why will you not sleep?" The mother said in exasperation.

"Why don't you sing him another lullaby? Do you know any others?" Hunith looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Yes, I do, actually. Merlin, tá mé an lullaby idéalach chun tú." This seemed to get the bairn's limited attention, and he looked up at her with a coo. She smiled before collecting her thoughts, and took a deep breath.

"A sheoladh ar mo mhac ceanndána

beidh an tsíocháin nuair atá tú ag déanamh

leagan do cheann traochta a gcuid eile

ná caoin níos mó"

She sang, and the child kicked his legs excitedly as he realized he was getting more Gaelic singing. It just felt so _right _to him.

"Nuair a d'ardaigh mé os cionn an torainn agus mearbhall

ach a fháil le léargas níos faide ná an illusion

Bhí mé ag ardú as cuimse riamh níos airde

go dtí go eitil mé ró-ard"

Gwen closed her eyes with a smile. She would definitely love to learn this language.

"cé gur féidir le mo shúile a fheiceáil, bhí mé fós fear dall

cé go bhféadfadh mo intinn smaoineamh, bhí mé fós ina fhear buile

Cloisim na guthanna agus mé ag brionglóideach

Is féidir liom a chloisteáil dóibh a rá"

By now, Merlin's eyes were slowly slipping shut and his lips would smack happily every few moments.

"A sheoladh ar mo mhac ceanndána

beidh an tsíocháin nuair atá tú ag déanamh

leagan do cheann traochta a gcuid eile

ná caoin níos mó"

Hunith slowly rose from her seat and glided over to the cot, placing the delicate sleeping babe inside.

Ná tú caoin ...níos...mó..." She faded off, placing a kiss on Merlin's forehead. She and Guenivere snuck through the door and into Hunith's chambers to talk for a while whilst they still had the time.

***Dodges flying shoe***** I know, I know, you're sick of the Gaelic lullabies. I just love having Hunith sing them. For any Gaelic/Irish people out there, I'm sure you've found a whole plethora of mistakes, but please blame Google Translate, as I cannot actually speak Gaelic.**

**Yes, that song was **_**Carry On My Wayward Son **_**by Kansas, and it is one of the awesomest songs on the planet. I know it's a bit out of place in Arthurian legend, but it's a beautiful song (especially the lullaby version, which I used for this) and it [lullaby version] could be passed off as time-appropriate in all technicality.**

**Translations:**

**Son. You must take a deep breath, Merlin!**

**Everything will be fine.**

**Merlin, I have the perfect lullaby for you.**

**Carry On My Wayward Son (Lullaby Version, before I had it translated to Gaelic)**

**Carry on my wayward son**

**There will be peace when you are done**

**Lay your weary head to rest**

**Do not cry anymore**

**Once I rose above the noise and confusion**

**Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion**

**I was soaring ever higher**

**Until I flew too high**

**Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man**

**Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man**

**I hear the voices when I'm dreaming**

**I can hear them say**

**(Chorus)**

**Don't you cry… no… more…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Alright, I know many of you are probably upset about the whumpage to a baby in the last chapter. I promise, he'll be okay; I just wanted to add some ****sort of obstacle he'd have to live with and eventually overcome. Yes, there will be times when little Merlin will cough and choke, but I promise I won't add any more hurting to a baby than that. And thank God for Gaius, who can help him stay healthy and pain-free! The only damage done to Merlin from his lungs will be the scariness of it at first. After awhile, he'll cope, I promise!**

**Argos: Don't cry! He'll be fine after awhile, don't worry!**

**Thanks again to everyone who's been reviewing; keep 'em coming!**

**Never Quite Lost: Introductions**

"Sire, your knights have returned." Said Callum, a fairly new red-headed servant, through the doorway. Arthur nodded in response, tightening his belt about his waist and mentally preparing himself for what was to come.

A day after Hunith's rescue, Sirs Gwaine, Percival, Elyan, Lancelot, and Leon had been sent on an urgent mission to aid several towns, which were being brutally attacked.

Not being able to put off meeting them any longer, King Arthur clasped his cape in place and walked formally out into the courtyard, where- to his relief- all of the knights were unloading their horses. They seemed a little worse for wear, but all in all uninjured.

Gwaine approached him first, nodding his head with a muffled 'Princess' before walking past him. Even after three weeks away, Gwaine had barely recovered from Merlin's death. Arthur wondered if he would be happy that Merlin was a baby. Angry, maybe? Probably pretty upset.

The rest of the knights were a bit more formal, but still quite stiff and depressed. Guenivere was waiting for them in the meeting hall, and from the way she was fidgeting, the king knew she was pretty eager to share the news. Now, he was excited, yes, but he also felt a small sense of trepidation. How would they react?

Upon the Royals' request, Hunith was not informed of this meeting. They wanted to wait until later for the knights to get their meetings in.

As each of the knights settled into their places at the round table, Arthur stood and leaned on his hands.

"Sir Leon, please share your report." He said, starting the meeting. Leon stood, bowing his head slightly.

"Sire, the attackers turned out to be several druids left from Camlann. They were seeking revenge for Mordred's death, and had been trying to draw you out of Camelot to attack you. We were able to diminish the threat, and help rebuild several burnt homes. No losses on our side."

"Thank you, Leon. Good work, to all of you. Now, we-" He was cut off by Gwaine's muttered, 'would have been so much simpler with Merlin.' He glared at the knight before continuing, glancing down to Gwen for support.

"We have some news that we wish to share. I am sure all of you remember the incident with Lady Hunith a few weeks ago." This got all of their attention, including a rather pouty Gwaine. They all leaned forwards in their seats, worried frowns adorning their faces.

"Well, as it turns out, she was not in labor that day, but had almost suffered miscarriage." At this, several mouths opened in shock and sorrow. Then, Lancelot spoke up, perking up a few of them.

"'Almost'?" He asked. Arthur nodded with a small grin.

"Yes, according to Gaius, both mother and child had been saved just in time. With rest, both will recover." They all relaxed.

"However, there is further news to be shared. Just two days afterwards, she went into labor, and gave birth." Lancelot, Gwaine, and Percival jumped up from their seats, all looking frantic with worry once again. They all thought of Hunith as an honorable mother figure, and they wouldn't be able to stand it if they lost her so soon after Merlin. Leon and Elyan remained seated, just a bit calmer.

"Are they alright?"

"Did it survive?"

"Is Hunith healthy?"

Their demands all merged into one, and the noise was giving the king a headache. He held up a hand, and they silenced impatiently. Gwen stood up, patting her husband on the shoulder and taking his place as spokesperson. The king sat down with a thump.

"Yes, calm yourselves. Lady Hunith is alright, and the child- although premature- will be fine if it lasts the month. Gaius is keeping a close eye on it." She reassured, while purposely leaving out any details about the child's gender, leaving them all looking curious.

"So, what is it?" Elyan asked from his seat. Gwen smiled at her brother before explaining.

"It is a beautiful baby boy with dark, curly hair and the bluest eyes you can imagine." Arthur smiled behind his hand. They all stared in awe at the description.

"Does he have a name yet?" Gwaine asked, his previous bad mood forgotten momentarily. At this, Gwen's face turned serious and she beckoned them all to sit. They did, leaning forward to show how eager they were.

"Yes, he does, but this is where everything gets very complicated. I want you all to swear that you will listen to the whole explanation before you so much as move. Can you swear?"

"My lady, we swear on our honor." Said Lancelot truthfully. They nodded in agreement.

"Alright. We found out from Hunith that this particular child is very important. I don't know how to explain this well, so bear with me. First, I think I'll start by telling you his name." She smiled sadly. "His name is Merlin." She quickly made a scolding noise at Gwaine, who was about to stand angrily. He frowned but remained seated.

"Now, Hunith learned from Merlin's dragon many years ago that Merlin was destined to live for thousands of years, as to serve the Once and Future King and Albion. Merlin was only an infant at the time, strapped to his mother's back. She had expressed her fears to the dragon of Merlin's death, since he was born premature and was too small to possibly survive the upcoming winter. And, she said, if the other villagers found out, they would surely burn him for his magic. The dragon told her that yes, even though he is destined to live for so long, he can die. He said if he died before his time, his magic would surely preserve him and give him new life. Now, Merlin did survive the winter because he used his magic and gained just barely enough weight. But, Hunith is now sure that this new baby is Merlin reborn." The knights all sat in stunned silence, not sure if they wanted to believe that just maybe there was a slight possibility that Merlin lived.

"What proof have you? How do you dare say this babe is Merlin? What proof justifies your claims?" Gwaine raged, standing and openly challenging the queen. Arthur seethed and the other knights stood to apprehend him, but Gwen raised a hand again and said, "No, it is alright. I do have proof that I will be glad to share with you, Sir Gwaine." She smiled, emphasizing 'Sir'. He had the grace to look slightly abashed, but continued to stare at her intensely. She sighed before gathering her thoughts and listing her evidence.

"First of all, I need you to come here, Sophie." She called, and her maidservant came rushing to her side. Gwen whispered something in her ear, and the girl smiled and nodded quickly before running out the great wooden doors.

"Alright, while she does that, I will list a few facts. First, this babe has magic. He used it just hours after his birth. Second, a falcon- or otherwise known as a merlin- visited Hunith through her open window, just hours before she gave birth. The merlin delivered her a necklace that Merlin himself used to wear, a small jar on a chain with many small pieces of parchment. Arthur claims it is the one he burned with." Percival and Lancelot were nodding dumbly. "Next, he has a long, thin scar at the base of his ribcage, exactly where Arthur claims Merlin was stabbed. Hunith explained that the scar was not there when Merlin was born. Also, he was born almost exactly four weeks early, the same as when Merlin was born. He is also the spitting image of Merlin, you'll see in a moment- ah! Sophie! Perfect timing!" She praised as the petite maidservant rushed through the doors once again, a blue blanket clutched in her arms protectively. She came up to the queen, handing her bundle to her and saying, "Lady Hunith says she will be down shortly." Gwen nodded, and the girl backed up to stand in the corner as she had been previously.

Gwen smiled lovingly at the bundle, and when she leaned it a little so that her husband could see it from his seat, he smiled affectionately as well. The knights, unable to tell what it was, watched in confusion.

Guenivere finally unwrapped the blanket, revealing a tiny baby in nothing but a diaper. He shivered slightly, and so she placed the soft cloth around his shoulders instead. She held him in the crook of her arm, and the knights of the round table watched in awe as he adjusted himself a bit to be more comfortable.

"An féidir leat a rá hello, Merlin?" She asked, proudly speaking the small bit of Gaelic she had learned that week. And after a few moments of intensely scrutinizing the child, Gwaine smiled widely.

"Deas bualadh leat arís, Merlin." He said in flawless Gaelic. Gwen had forgotten he knew it. She beamed when she had finally translated what he had said.

"Sir Gwaine, would you like the honor of holding him first?" She asked. His smile grew until his face looked like it would split and he nodded mutely. She edged her way around the table and passed the baby to the loyal knight, who was a natural with him. He held him to his chest, supporting his head and his bum and gently covering his naked body with the blanket.

The child looked right up into his eyes with Merlin's eyes, and all of his doubts were completely gone. Yup, this was Merlin all right. He had an adult-like wisdom shining behind his orbs, and he kept staring up at this new handler owlishly.

Over the course of ten minutes, little Merlin was passed gently from Gwaine to Elyan, then to Leon, then Lancelot and then finally Percival. For such a large man, he was very gentle with the skinny child.

"Why is he wheezing, milady?" Percival asked when the child started having difficulty breathing, afraid he had done something wrong. Gwen smiled sadly at him.

"He was born with weak lungs, Percival. He will always have problems breathing. And since he died from punctured lungs in his last life, Gaius theorizes that it may permanently affect this Merlin. He says he'll probably cough up mucus, blood and scar tissue a few times a week, until he's at least in his twenties. He was also born with underdeveloped neck muscles, so he will most likely take longer to hold up his own head." They all looked saddened at this, but refused to let this experience be ruined.

"My lady, I am here. Apologies, I just had to stop by Gaius' chambers to see how his tonic was coming along." Hunith apologized as she entered, carrying a small green vial full of liquid. Carefully taking her son from Percival's arms, she held him close and poured the mystery liquid down his throat, ignoring his angered squawk.

"Hunith, is that his tonic? Gaius has it finished already?" Arthur asked. She nodded and smiled hopefully.

"Yes, it is. Gaius has worked on it all week, hardly doing anything else. I just hope it will work." As if on cue, the baby boy started gagging in her arms, his face turning blue. While the knights panicked, Hunith calmly put him the Quilt Position, hit his back, and soothed him after the gob of dead skin and blood was coughed up and he was left sobbing. The crystals on the chandelier began shaking and a few flew from their hooks, flying into the walls and shattering.

"Rialú duit féin!" Hunith cried, and continued to rock the baby until he calmed and his tears dried. She sighed, knowing this was for the better and at least the tonic prevented the process from being painful, but it still pained her to see her baby so terrified.

"… Well, he certainly does have magic." Gwaine half-joked. Then he turned thoughtful again. Turning to Hunith, he asked, "Why bring him back as a baby when he can't protect Arthur?" Hunith raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, you think he can't protect Arthur just because he's young?"

"Well, yeah. Newborns aren't generally known for their protecting capabilities." In response, Hunith turned to the king.

"Do you trust me?" She asked. Arthur looked at her suspiciously.

"… yes…" He answered. She smiled sweetly before wrenching Gwaine's sword from its sheath and throwing it at Arthur as hard as she could.

Sensing his other half's fear and surprise, baby Merlin's eyes flashed a brilliant gold and suddenly time seemed to slow down a bit. The chair Arthur sat in moved backwards on its own, then off to the side, way out of the way of the projectile. Time sped up again, and the sword embedded itself in the wall Arthur had been blocking only moments before. With a smirk, Hunith turned to the dumbstruck knights.

"Never underestimate an all-powerful warlock." And with that, she left the room to put her son down for a nap.

Wide-eyed, Gwaine turned back to his brothers-in-arms and his King and Queen.

"Now there is a woman you never want to piss off." He said with a breathless laugh.

**Translations:**

**Can you say hello, Merlin?**

**It's nice to meet you again, Merlin.**

**Control yourself!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello there! Do you have any good suggestions for my upcoming chapters? I think they'll mostly consist of drabbles and such. If you think of something you'd like me to add, list it in the reviews! If I like your idea, or if it pertains to Merlin's current age in the story, then I'll write a chapter in your honor! Be sure to review!**

**Never Quite Lost: Smile**

"Merlin, look at me! Look at Gwen!" Guenivere cooed, bouncing Merlin a bit to get his attention. His interest was riveted on the nursery window, and the constant movement outside.

It had been five weeks since his birth, and since then he had made quite a bit of progress. His eyesight had sharpened, he was much more vocal and his movements were slowly becoming more controlled and less jerky. Gaius had encouraged the baby's caretakers to exercise his neck muscles as much as possible, to repeat his sounds back to him and try to stimulate his brain.

Sighing, Gwen realized when she was beaten, and then smiled when an idea came to mind. She whispered something to her husband, who was sitting next to her, and then handed the distracted child to him. With a loud laugh, Arthur stood from his chair and held the baby up to his face. Little Merlin could just barely support his own head, so Arthur had to be careful and help him most of the time.

"Do you want to fly, Merlin? Do you want to fly like the birds?" He asked playfully, placing a kiss on the infant's soft forehead. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor, placed one forearm under the child's belly and another under his chin, and lifted him slowly into the air, moving him back and forth and carrying him around the room. He could see the tiny arms flapping in excitement, and the kicking of his long legs, but couldn't see his face.

He stopped short when he heard a strange airy gasping from the baby, frantically speeding back to a worried Gwen and having her help him turn the child over. 'He had his latest cough-up only yesterday', Arthur was thinking in worry, 'is there something else wrong with him? Are his lungs weaker than we thought?'

Carefully flipping the baby onto his back in the king's arms, the couple prepared themselves for the blue face, the bloody drool dripping from the gaping mouth, the wide eyes flashing with desperate magic. Arthur tensed his whole body, completely ready to run like a maniac to Gaius' chambers, and Gwen was using one heel to slip her cripplingly uncomfortable sandals off.

Instead, what they found was Merlin's chubby cheeks flushed bright red, his eyes wide open and the corners of his mouth pulled up in his first smile as the gasping continued. Queen Guenivere was the first one to notice the joyful glint in his eye.

"Arthur, he's _laughing_!" She said, laughing herself. Albeit a weak, almost-got-it-but-not-quite-there-yet laugh, devoid of any vocal sound and merely him sucking in air and expelling it noisily, it was still a laugh, and she cherished the sound. He kept flashing his charming gummy smile, and Arthur soon found himself joining his wife and surrogate son.

_Son_. He froze a bit at the thought, at realizing that he already thought of Merlin as an adopted son, and not a dead-and-reborn friend. He didn't know if it was a good thing or not, but decided to embrace it. This was the best he'd felt in so long, and opening old wounds by missing adult Merlin would do him no good.

"Good job, Merlin!" He exclaimed, holding Merlin up close and pointedly smiling, hoping the baby would copy him. At first, the tiny warlock just sat there, staring curiously at the king's mouth and the strange things it was doing. Then, taking the hint, he pulled the corners of his mouth up, opening it and smiling widely back to Arthur. The sight was so adorable, so _Merlin_, it made Arthur's heart feel like it was increasing in size, at least tenfold. When he began laughing again, the mirth returned to Merlin's eyes, and then it was a genuine smile once again.

He started his gasp-laughing again, and then there was a small brown bird levitating through the window, squawking in protest as it was made to float circles above the jovial baby's head. The royals had to stifle their laughter at the ridiculous sight. The baby stopped laughing, placing a fist in his mouth and completely forgetting the bird that had been so fascinating to him only moments before. Gwen stood, smiling good-naturedly, and grabbed the bird from its magical containment, taking it to the window and releasing it.

She returned to her seat, and her heart melted in her chest as she watched her beloved husband cuddling the infant close, and she thought of how wonderful a father he would be. Her thoughts were fleetingly drawn to a memory of a tiny, pale baby similar to Merlin, being placed in his forever-resting place. Tears sprang to her eyes as she tried to futilely think of something, _anything _else.

Oh, Tobias, my little Toby. What would you have been like, had you lived? Would you be here, charming us with your first smiles as well? Would you have been quiet, like Merlin, or would you have outspoken and defiant, like your parents? Oh, my beautiful son, I had promised you so many times while I was carrying you that I would protect you. _Were you even alive then to hear my promises?_

She felt nausea bubbling up into her throat, and then she wanted nothing more than to run to her bed, flop on her face, and sleep the month away.

From her angle slightly behind Arthur, she could see little Merlin's face as it was squished a bit against her husband's shoulder, though he seemed not to care, drinking up the affection from his other half and seeming perfectly comfortable. She wished she could be like him, innocent enough not to be plagued by the grief of the world.

He suddenly twitched slightly, sensing her intense sadness, and his faraway look disappeared. Merlin lifted his head a millimeter- as high as he could go on his own- and turned it slightly until he was facing his surrogate mama and plopping his head down once more. He stared at her, creasing his eyebrows every few moments and scrutinizing her thoroughly, and she tried to put on a smile for him. No use exposing him to these horrid emotions just yet.

His forehead only creased further at her teary half-smile and he seemed completely confused as to why she wasn't feeling happy. Although, she doubted he would understand what she was feeling, he was so young.

After this thought went through her mind, the boy's face smoothed out, and he continued to stare at her almost as if saying, 'I know what you're going through, and you need to feel better.' As if he understood now.

Still staring at her, his clear blue eyes glowed golden and then she felt lighter, as all the dark thoughts were vanquished. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and her smile was now genuine. Knowing what he had done and being truly grateful for his kindness, she beamed at the infant, who was studying her intently for her reaction. She wanted to associate his selfless acts with happiness, hoping to start his moral development off early.

For a moment, she wondered if he knew what she was doing, or if he really was just a confused baby.

Then, with his face still squished between Arthur's neck and shoulder, his neck supported by the king's hand and his hands gripping the soft red fabric the man wore, Merlin smiled right back at her.

And, Gwen realized, even if she couldn't have her own flesh-and-blood babies, this was still so very, _very_ rewarding.

**Like I said, pretty drabble-y. Any ideas or prompts, feel free to leave them in the reviews!**


	10. Chapter 10

**I am very pleased with the responses! Thanks to those who have reviewed and offered ideas! **

**Argos, it's been awhile since I've seen that particular episode, so while I research the whittled dragon and its story and such, here's a chapter with one of my own prompts. I promise you won't have to wait too long!**

**Clockworkraven: Thanks! Do you speak Gaelic? If so, am I doing it right? Your review was much appreciated!**

**I am using very loose math here, but Merlin is around three months old in this chapter, and six weeks have passed since the last chapter.**

**All facts about child development were found online, and the medical stuff involving his lungs is completely my imagination. Do not take any of these 'facts' as truth! Fiction, people!**

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Merlin… boo.**

**Never Quite Lost: Babysit**

"Gaius, how's he doing?" Asked Arthur. The physician finished his examination, put the rest of his equipment away, and plopped the child in his lap, a hand just barely supporting his neck.

"Sire, his lungs are slightly improved, his eyesight is phenomenal, his heart is strong, he's gained one pound, his hearing seems normal, and his muscles are getting stronger." He listed, and the king smiled.

"Good, good. So, any new tips this week?"

It had become a regular thing for one of Merlin's caregivers to take him for a check-up once a week, and each time the physician would give them some more tips to help in his growth and development.

"Yes, sire. He is twelve weeks old today, and that means he needs to work even harder on supporting his head. Lay him on his stomach sometimes and place something of interest above him, and that should encourage him to try.

"Keep reading to him and speak directly to him, using short, simple words and exaggerating your mouth's movements. This helps him learn to speak. Encourage any sounds he tries to make by returning them.

"Also, you may have noticed he has found sudden interest in his own hands." Arthur nodded, laughing slightly as he remembered the tiny fingers trying to pinch _everything_, and how Merlin would laugh for several minutes straight when he found a texture that pleased him.

"Well, keep presenting him with things that are safe for him to touch, and try to vary the textures. This promotes brain function and enhances his sense of touch.

"And last but not least; people. He needs to gain social skills by being around other people. Let a maid hold him for a few minutes, or have the knights watch him for a day, but he needs more exposure." The king nodded, assuring the aged man that he would.

A knock at the door revealed Callum, who scurried to the King's side and said, "Sire, the visiting nobles are waiting in the meeting hall." Arthur sighed, and waved the boy off.

"Yes, yes, I shall be there in a moment." Turning to look at the gurgling baby, he ran a hand down his face as he considered what to do.

"Gaius, could you watch him for an hour? You did say he needed to socialize with newer people, and I know you are dying for some time with him." He said as charmingly as he could, not wanting to beg.

Gaius raised an eyebrow, went mentally through his schedule for the day, then nodded.

"Alright, I can keep an eye on him until your meeting is finished." He complied. The blonde smiled widely and thanked him before leaving. Gaius turned Merlin around in his lap, his lips twitching upwards as he watched the oblivious baby pinching his little red shirt in his thumb and forefinger, then pulling on it and flapping his hands in excitement when it would be pulled from his weak grasp.

"Ah Merlin, you always were so easily entertained." He said fondly. The baby looked up at hearing his name. He responded with a 'goo.' Gaius, thankful that they were alone, returned the noise, and watched laughingly as the child wiggled his fingers in excitement and watched his mouth expectantly.

"Merlin, can you say 'Gai-us'?"

"Goah!"

"Gai-us?"

"Goah! Goeh!" Gaius chuckled and handed Merlin a scrap of clean fabric, watching as he grabbed it with his thumbs and forefingers. He pulled it in two separate ways, studying how it tightened the further he pulled. Then he dropped it and looked away, deciding he wanted something new to play.

Gaius, while he had the opportunity, placed Merlin on a mat on the floor on his stomach, hanging a colored string from the edge of a nearby table. So while the tiny warlock was busy trying to lift his head, he prepared his new-and-improved tonic in a small glass jar.

When he turned back around, Merlin was on his back, contentedly sucking on the piece of string and his eyes fading suspiciously back to blue. Cheater.

"Merlin!" The physician cried, making the baby look up at him innocently, batting his thick lashes. He scooped him up from the floor, put the string off to the side, and quickly made Merlin drink the tonic while he wasn't expecting it, so he wouldn't have the chance to make it go flying like last time. Gaius shuddered at the memory. His poor, irreplaceable tomes.

There was an angered gurgle as the fowl liquid was forced down Merlin's throat, but he was eventually forced to swallow. Man, this old guy was going to get it!

His fussiness was interrupted by the somewhat familiar but completely unwelcome pressure in his chest and neck, followed by the feeling of something blocking his airway. He tried to cry but found himself unable, as always, and all he could do was flail his arms in panic and break a few vases on their shelves across the room.

This particular tonic was of Gaius' own design, made to completely remove any pain from his cough-ups but simultaneously causing the cough-ups as well. He only administered this once a week to get rid of any new scar tissue and so prevent any sudden attacks later on in the week. Since the scar tissue was basically in every part of his lungs and several layers deep, he'd be coughing up the newest layers for several years, if not his whole life. It was unlike anything Gaius had ever experienced before. It was like any new lung tissue his body produced was scarred and half-dead.

Already expecting and prepared for the controlled attack, Gaius put him in the Quilt Position and hit his back for several minutes, bouncing him a little and rubbing his neck with his other hand. All the while he was murmuring words of comfort to the baby, switching to Gaelic when English obviously wasn't getting through.

"Tá sé ceart go leor ... beidh tú breá ... calma síos ..." He didn't know much of the language, but being a doctor meant he knew comfort words in almost every tongue.

When the tissue and blood and sputum had been coughed up and cleaned up, he placed his surrogate nephew on the cot and rubbed his belly until the tears and scared wails stopped and a fresh tomato was placed in his curious hands. Cooing happily, he poked and prodded the thing and laughed when a bit of juice flowed from a puncture. While he was effectively distracted, Merlin's caretaker made a bit of warm broth and put it in a bottle with a cloth tied around the mouth to filter the flow. He traded the red fruit for the bottle.

Half an hour later, a bathed, fed, and exhausted Merlin was sleeping soundly on Gaius' cot, dressed in a thick nightshirt and wrapped in blankets.

Gaius sat by his side, stroking his thick, curly black hair lovingly and tracing his face with a feather-like touch. He admired how his raven locks brought out the perfect porcelain of his flawless round face; how the warm blankets made him look that much smaller; he internally laughed quite drily at how the sleepwear was the perfect size for infants his age, yet Merlin still was completely lost in their depths. He watched, reassured by the steady rise and fall of his tiny chest.

A gentle rapping sounded from the door. Seconds later, Callum entered the chambers and shuffled his feet nervously, hands clasped behind his back. The older man eyed the ginger servant warily, knowing this couldn't be good. It seemed like the poor manservant was always the bearer of bad news.

"Sir, I was ordered by His Highness to inform you that his meeting will be lasting an additional two hours than originally planned, and then he will be attending the feast with the nobles. He requires your services in watching his charge until sundown." A Merlin-esque voice in his head kept repeating 'called it.' And before Gaius could dismiss the boy, he was already gone, and now a small brunette maidservant was rushing in.

"Gaius! Gaius, there's been a fire!" She exclaimed despite the physician's gestures to be quiet, waking the baby. He cried a bit until Gaius picked him up and rocked him.

"Where?" He asked over the infant's shoulder.

"In the lower town."

"How many injured?" The girl looked thoughtful for a moment.

"At least seven; four children and three adults. The fires were put out, but there are still those needing medical assistance." Gaius frowned, concerned. Children were even more vulnerable than adults, and burns were quite debilitating injuries to say the least.

His thoughts shifted to Merlin, who was fussing a bit on his shoulder. What to do with him? He got an idea as he examined the maid before him. She was young, only about eleven, but looked intelligent and caring. Maybe-

"Oh, uh, my name's Julia. I'm to be your assistant and help with the victims. I, ah, heard about what happened with your last one…" She shifted awkwardly, eyeing the infant. Oh well, if she had to help him instead of watching Merlin, Gaius really couldn't complain. He'd need her help.

He nodded absently, using one arm to gather his supplies. Julia noticed his multitasking and wordlessly took the child from him, holding Merlin to her chest and rocking him, effectively silencing him. She smiled and kissed his fuzzy forehead.

"He likes you." Gaius noted good-naturedly as he now used both hands to pack his supplies. The little girl smiled hopefully, hugging Merlin a little closer.

"Really? How can you tell?" The old man had to smile at her still-so-childish innocence. She seemed awfully young to be working as it was.

"Well, just look at him. He doesn't usually behave for strangers." Julia looked down into the infant's face, smiling excitedly when he smiled back. Gaius could tell they had just made her day.

"Hello Merlin. I've 'eard lots about you! I'm Julia." She crooned, taking his chubby fist in her hand and shaking it jokingly.

"Ju! Ju!" Merlin cooed happily, and Julia's smile almost split her face.

As much as Gaius hated ruining their moment, and as much as he didn't want to tear this girl- still a child- from this happiness and dump her in a room full of horrifically injured people, he knew he had no choice.

"Julia, we must be going." He said, and she nodded, running to his side with Merlin in her arms. She dutifully followed behind him as they exited the castle and trekked to the lower town where smoke was reaching towards the sky and people were running about, each doing something or other to assist.

They walked up to a group of people who were lying in the soft hay of one of the stable stalls. There were eight of them total, five children, one teenaged girl, one woman, and one man. The youngest child, a girl of at most five summers, had burns trailing down her right arm; the oldest child, a girl of at most twelve summers, had a burn from the left side of her forehead all the way down to her right clavicle and a bloody gash on her right shin. A little blonde boy, maybe six years, had a bruise on his naked chest; his identical twin had a similarly large bruise on his right thigh. The last child, a nine-year-old brunette boy, had burns completely covering his left foot. The children all lay on the largest pile of accumulated hay, each sprawled and each adorning similar tear tracks through layers of soot.

The teenager, a pretty brunette of around sixteen years, had scorched skin all over her back that she apparently got from protecting her little siblings and a nasty bump on her skull. She lay at the bottom of the pile, gazing up at her saviors through heavy lids.

The mother and father were both mostly uninjured, though the mother had a burned eyelid that kept that eye shut. They were both coughing heavily.

Gaius winced at the sight of the family's suffering, wondering if he should let Julia continue to be exposed to this.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the determination in her eyes told him that she was going to help in any possible way she could. Sighing, he relented.

"Julia, go find Sir Gwaine and give Merlin to him." He ordered, and she nodded solemnly. She ran out of the stables, the babe over her shoulder watching her skirts swoosh in fascination, and tracked down the knight, handing the child over to him only when she was absolutely sure he was trustworthy.

"Gaius needs you to watch him." She said, her brown eyes scrutinizing him thoroughly. Gwaine nodded. "You better take good care of him." She half-threatened before running back to her master's side.

~oOo~

"Julia, I need more water." She handed him another vial of the cool liquid. He nodded thanks and poured it over the child's burns, letting her squeeze his hand until the renewed burning sensation died down.

"Alright Sari, I just need to add some ointment to prevent infection and then you can join your parents in the courtyard." Sari nodded wearily, and sighed in relief when the oily medicine didn't hurt like she had thought it would. The kind man finished wrapping a bandage around her injured arm, gave her a list of things to do to care for her wound, and had Julia escort the girl to her parents.

When Julia returned, he had already started treating Thomas, the twin with a bruised abdomen.

Gaius was surprised at how strong Julia was. She did every task he asked of her, no matter what doubts she may harbor, no matter what the task was. She kept a calm face when dealing with the horrific injuries, and reassured the victims constantly about Gaius' skill.

"Gaius?" She asked hesitantly after a few moments of thoughtful consideration.

"Yes, child?" He asked, not looking up from his examination. He had to make sure these ribs weren't cracked!

"… Do… Do you think Sir Gwaine is taking good care of Merlin?" He smiled to himself at how protective she had become of the babe. She hardly knew him two hours and already she was like his big sister. He threw a reassuring smile to her.

"Yes, Julia, Sir Gwaine is nothing if not loyal. He won't let anything happen to Merlin, I swear." Her spirits lifted a little, and she smiled.

"You're right! I mean, he's a knight of Camelot for goodness' sake!" she exclaimed. She straightened her back and held her head confidently. "I'm sure he's taking the absolute best care of him!"

~oOo~

"Merlin! Put us down!"

"Whose bright- umph- idea was this, anyway?"

"Gwaine."

"Oi! I was just 'oldin 'im! How was I supposed to know he'd wake up and magically pin us to the _freaking wall_?"

"Oh, you stop your laughing, you little squirt! Get us down!"

"Hey Elyan, maybe he's doing this because he thinks we're strangers? You know baby Merlin doesn't bode well to strangers."

"That may be the case, but how does that help?"

"… No idea…"

~oOo~

"Okay Timothy, I need you to hold still and breathe deeply. Can you do that?" Gaius asked patiently. He had a bandage in hand and a bottle of cleansing potion, but the child panicked at the sight of it.

"I-I can't!" He cried, breathing erratically. His eyes were bugging in his sockets and his face was pale underneath the poorly-washed-off soot. Julia knelt next to the twin and placed a comforting hand on his arm.

"Timmy, it's alright. Just copy me." She said calmly and began breathing deeply. He nodded shakily and kept his gaze firmly on her, breathing in time with her breaths and not even noticing it was over until the bandages had been tied off.

"Alright, you're done, lad."

"Really?" He asked in astonishment. Gaius nodded.

"Just keep it clean, rinse it once a day, and change the bandages twice a week." The boy sprang up lightly, avoiding using his gimp leg, and wrapped his arms around Julia's neck, then Gaius' in a tight hug.

"Thank you, Sir Doctor!" He mumbled into the man's neck. Gaius smiled and tears lay unshed behind his eyes. He hugged the boy back, then playfully swatted his behind so he would go join his brother in the courtyard.

"You know…" Julia said, grinning, "I think I just might become a physician one day, just like you."

~oOo~

"Gah! He's doing it again!"

"Cover, man, cover!"

"Why the devil does he keep doing that?"

"Oh, don't you even think about laughing, ya overgrown piglet!"

"What do we do?"

"I don't know- uh, Lancelot, you're the baby expert, do something!"

"Baby expert? How does knowing how to hold a baby make me an expert?"

"JUST DO SOMETHING!"

"Like what? Don't you think if I could do something to stop this, I would have done so already? Christ, it's not like you're the only ones he's peeing on."

~oOo~

"Julia, could you cleanse the wound, please?" Gaius asked, and the girl nodded. Pushing her hair back and tying it with a kerchief, she wet a cloth and gingerly wiped it over the older girl's face. Tylea cringed some, but bravely stayed where she was and made no complaint. The Physician's Assistant then put some soothing cream on top before putting medical adhesive cloth on the worst burns on her face. Gaius was busy dressing the cut on the girl's shin.

"So, what do you like to do, Tylea?" Julia asked to distract the girl as she worked. Tylea turned bright green eyes on her and smiled a fraction.

"I like to sew. I make all kinds of scarves and coats and socks from cheap string I can buy at the market. My mama says I have true talent. But now the f-fire bur-burned all of my w-work a-"

"No, Tylea, no! Don't think that way, please!" the younger girl implored, pulling Tylea into a hug. "I am sure we will find some way to get you all through this. And when you do, I am personally going to help you buy all the string we can possibly buy and sew a brand new set of clothing. I promise."

Tylea smiled, placed a grateful kiss on the girl's head, and- with Gaius' permission- went to join her family.

~oOo~

"What the deuce is this horse crap?"

"It's called baby food, Gwaine."

"Well, it's disgusting. I am not feeding this to Merlin."

"Then what do you suggest we do, oh wise knight?"

"Uhm… Lancelot, you're the baby expert. You feed him something."

"Gwaine, I am not a baby expert."

"Woah, calm down, calm down. Erm… Merlin, what do you want to eat?"

"Goah!"

"Goah, what does that sound like…"

"Gwaine, you can't be serious."

"… Oh! It sounds like 'gourd'!" He wants a gourd!"

"… you never cease to amaze me."

"Shut up, Elyan. Lancelot, go mash up that gourd."

"Oh good Lord, have mercy."

~oOo~

"Daniel, what's your favorite food?" Julia inquired. She sat right next to him, purposely blocking his view of his burnt foot, and what was being done to it. He winced every once and a while and would sometimes shout out, but not watching the process sure seemed to lessen his pain.

"I-AH!- I like really anything mum makes me." He said. She smiled and nodded encouragingly. "L-like when she makes a whole cooked chicken for our birthdays, and when she makes her super-special-recipe broth on cold winter nights. It warms you right up!"

"Woah, now you're making me hungry!" She laughed. He blushed slightly and apologized.

"Alright Daniel, keep this cast on for two weeks. Avoid strenuous exercise." Gaius listed, then sent the boy off without anything else. He was getting tired, and the sun was low in the sky.

"Gaius, how do you think Merlin and the knights are doing?" Julia asked, trying to hide her anxiety and failing. He smiled fondly at her sisterly love and overprotectiveness. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Julia, I am sure they are absolutely fine."

~oOo~

"No! Bad Merlin!"

"He's not a dog, Gwaine!"

"Well 'scuse me if he's actin' like one!"

"Calm yourselves, both of you. Watch this."

"… See, I knew it, he's the baby expert."

"Gwaine, say it one more time and I'll run you through in training tomorrow."

"Sorry, Sir Threatsalot."

"Freah!"

"You see? He's copying us! Start behaving more like a grown man, Gwaine."

"But why doesn't Merlin have to?"

"That's hilarious, Gwaine. So hilarious I forgot to laugh."

"I try."

"Treah!"

"Again?"

"Geh!"

"Merlin, knock it off!"

"Nah! Ah!"

"Stop repeating me!"

"Meah!"

"No! Bad Merlin!"

"He's not a dog, Gwaine!"

~oOo~

"Katrina, just one more stitch, then it's done." Gaius comforted the whimpering teen as he pulled the needle through her scalp once more. Carefully cutting and tying the string, he laid her head on the pile of hay and asked Julia to open _only the back_ of the girl's tattered dress, since Katrina was too lethargic to do so herself.

As they both worked to clean and disinfect the various burns all over the girl's back, both physician and his assistant were very amazed at what she had done. She had shielded all of her siblings from the brunt of the falling glass and wood.

"What you did was very brave, Katri." Julia said truthfully. Katrina blinked tiredly, nodding her head slightly.

"sswha 'nywhah 'd do." She slurred. She didn't have a concussion, but she was so tired and drained.

"You're right, Katrina. Good people would do it. But the fact that you endured so much and without thinking about the pain for yourself is brave. You are so kind, and you care so much. You deserve a good week of rest." She nodded and with their combined efforts, she was carried to the guest chambers where the family would temporarily be staying.

~oOo~

"Elyan, his head doesn't go there!"

"Well excuse me! These things are like labyrinths! The arm holes and the head hole look so much alike!"

"Come on, it's not _that_ difficult!"

"You do it then!

"Alright, I will. Watch an learn as I… easily… What is this sorcery?"

"Not so easy now, is it?"

"Shut up and help me get these rags on him before he pins us to the wall again."

~oOo~

That night, Julia practically ran to Merlin's nursery, anxious to see her adopted baby brother alive and well. It's not that she didn't trust the knights, it's just… no, she really didn't trust the knights all that much. They were trained for combat, not diaper-changing.

She burst through the doors, finding Merlin asleep in his cot and the knights sitting talking quietly at the table nearby. They made a shushing gesture to her, and she tiptoed over to the crib and peeked over the edge.

He was so peaceful when he was sleeping, licking his lips and breathing so deeply. She had heard rumors that he had weak lungs, but so far she had yet to experience any of his so-called 'attacks'. She hoped he'd have a happy childhood to make up for the one she never had. She made a silent oath to protect him like the little brother she'd always wanted, and then sneakily left the room to go get ready for bed.

When Hunith returned from her kitchen duties that day, she found her son deeply asleep, the knights sleeping in their chairs around the nursery table, and not a thing out of place otherwise. At first, anyway.

And if she did somehow want to know why Merlin's nightie was on backwards and inside-out, why there was some sort of melon burning in the fireplace, why there was cream of garlic filling the boy's socks, why the knights smelled so fowl, why Gwaine was missing a patch of hair, or why Elyan had lipstick scribbles on his forehead and nose, well, she never said anything.

**Anyways, I'm looking into Argos' prompt, but be sure to leave me some for later usage! Updates will be slower now, just FYI. Thanks! R&R!**

**Translations:**

**It's alright... you'll be fine... calm down...**


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm baaack! Miss me? I know it's only been, what, a day? But still, it's great to be alive! :)**

**Argos: Here's the chapter you requested! I remember the episode more clearly now, and I just needed to see a picture of the dragon for this. Thanks again for your support and involvement!**

**Opal: I honestly didn't think about that! Does that make me a bad author? ;) No, they're not going to do that because I want Merlin to have an obstacle in this life, one he didn't have in his first one. I hope you enjoy regardless! **

**Merlin is 4 months old in this chapter, and around four weeks have passed.**

**Never Quite Lost: Papa**

Sighing, Hunith ran a hand over her skirt again, smoothing out invisible wrinkles. Her blue dress had been made especially for her, tailored and then colored the shade of Merlin's eyes. In her white apron's pocket was a small wooden lump wrapped delicately in an old neckerchief.

Pulling it out for the hundredth time that day, she carefully removed the wrapping and traced an admiring finger down the miniature dragon's smooth back, tears blurring her vision.

Balinor, Merlin's father and previously the last Dragonlord, had carved this little wooden dragon. Though she never got to see him again before he died, Merlin had shown this little toy to her with an excited glint in his eyes. It had stayed in his room in Camelot for the remaining three years before his death, and then Gaius had given it to her when she arrived.

"Maybe I shouldn't do this… he can't possibly be old enough yet!" She argued with herself. She was having several doubts about whether or not she should return it to him yet.

"No, he needs this. He may not grow up with his father, but he should at least have something of his." She reminded herself resolutely, pushing open the nursery door before she could stop again.

Gwen, Arthur, and Julia were inside, all forming a circle on the floor with little baby Merlin in the center. He could essentially hold up his own head now, but every once and a while he'd drop his head in a bout of clumsiness. He sat on his little bum, a toy knight in hand and a toy horse in mouth.

"Hello, Miss Hunith!" Julia chirped in welcome. She jumped up from her spot, ran over to Hunith, and grabbed her free hand, pulling her eagerly over to join them.

"Miss Hunith! Miss Hunith! Guess what Merlie can do?" Hunith laughed at the hilarious nickname her son had been given. She knew Merlin would hate that name later on, but for now she'd let sleeping dogs lie.

"What?" She asked in genuine curiosity. Each day brought something new with Merlin.

"Merlin, like we practiced!" Julia instructed the infant who looked at her and cooed over a mouthful of noble steed. While the king and queen watched with matching smiles, and Hunith with a raised brow, Merlin's eyes flashed gold and the toy knight mounted his slobbery horse, and then raised his little sword and slayed the toy griffin.

Hunith's heart broke a little at the thought that he was learning to hate magical creatures. He made the little knight stab some warped, nightmarish unicorn, then attack a troll.

"We taught him how to play figurines, King Arthur and I!" Julia exclaimed, oblivious to the mother's distress. Hunith sighed in relief.

Merlin wasn't consciously making the knight kill the creatures; he was repeating what they had shown him, going through the motions. King Arthur probably didn't even realize what he had been teaching.

"That's very nice, Julia. I have something I wanted to give to Merlin, and although I was going to ask you all to leave, I now think it best if you are here to learn the significance of this and so you may continue to teach him when I am no longer able." They all leaned in closely, furrowing their brows. She sat in the empty space cleared for her, and turned her son to face her direction.

"Merlin, I have something for you." She cooed with a sad smile, pulling the wooden beast from her pocket and placing it in his hands. Merlin giggled- a real, vocal giggle- and put both hands on it, bouncing it up and down.

"What is that, Hunith?" Gwen asked.

"It is something that Merlin's father made for him before he died." They all grew somber.

"Merlie, I'm so sorry you don't have your papa. But don't worry, _I'll_ look after you!" Julia proclaimed earnestly, giving the confused child a bear hug. When she pulled away, he brought the toy dragon up to his face and stared at it intently.

"Hey Merlie, let's play knights and dragons!" Julia cried, making the king and queen laugh quietly. She was so cute!

When the infant just looked confused, King Arthur reached over and took the dragon gently, then picked up a knight and made them 'fight', showing Merlin how to do it.

He handed them back, asking if Merlin could do it too.

They remained oblivious to Hunith's pained expression.

Merlin took the figures from his adopted father and looked at them curiously, starting to get the idea.

"Come on Merlin, you can do it!"

"No." Hunith finally said, not wanting this seemingly innocent play to corrupt Merlin's future views. Everyone looked at her, stunned, and all was silent as the baby struggled to understand what was happening.

"Merlin, play the way _you _remember." She said slowly, enunciating every word. He watched her mouth as she spoke, slowly dropping the two toys to the floor. He looked very unsure, and was probably thinking of crying.

"Merlin, show them. Taispeáin iad agus cuimhneamh orthu." And then they all waited, watching the babe with rapt attention.

Finally, he smiled, looked to the toys, and said, "pa." with such conviction and volume, they knew it truly meant something to him. His eyes flashed golden, and the tiny dragon and the tiny knight both came to life. The knight walked up to the wooden dragon and climbed right up on his back, and then they took flight, circling above their heads. The dragon breathed out sparks of colorful light, and the knight's sword glowed like flame.

They all watched, awestruck. The sight was truly enchanting, the golden lights flickering around the room, lighting up their faces and warming their hearts. Merlin flapped his tiny hands in excitement, an expression of true happiness on his innocent face.

"Pa!" He cried. "Pa! Pa!" Hunith smiled as she realized what he was saying.

"Pah-pah! Ka-grah! Mah-lah!" He cried as his excitement grew. He was kicking his legs now, as well.

"Merlin, what are you saying?" Arthur inquired. To him, it just sounded like random syllables.

"Arthur, he's saying 'Papa'." Hunith translated. Her heart skipped a beat as she thought of Balinor, and how wonderful it would be if he could be here now.

"Kah-grah! Ki-gruh!" Merlin cried again, his head tilted all the way back as he watched the dragon and his faithful rider. Arthur looked to Hunith pointedly, waiting for another translation.

"Kilgarrah."

"Pa! Ka-grah! Mra-we!"

"Merlin and Kilgarrah and papa. The Great Dragon and his Dragonlords." She said, happy tears running from her eyes.

"Wa's that mean?" Asked Julia. Hunith beamed at the girl.

"It means he remembers."

**I know this probably wasn't my best chapter, but did you enjoy it anyways? **

**I just want to clarify something as well: Merlin remembers bits and pieces of his past life, but that doesn't mean he'll remember everything. This is his new chance at life.**

**I wanted to dedicate this chapter to my little brother, Gabie. He's just a child himself, but maybe he'll see this when he's older.**

**Gabie is partially autistic, and so that's why I keep making Merlin flap his hands and kick his legs when he's excited, just like my brother. I thought I'd make him like Gabie just a bit. Now, Merlin isn't at all autistic, but I just think the little quirks are adorable.**

**Gabie, you are so smart and loving and kind, you're a computer genius and a professional snugglebug. I love you lots, bro! I hope as you grow- like little Merlin- you'll always keep your Dragon Heart, your Knight's Intelligence, and your Magical Personality! -Sissy**

**Thank you all so much for your reviews and favorites, and I hope you keep 'em coming!**

**-Violet**

**Translations:**

**Show them and remember**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Hey guys, how am I doing so far? Got any more prompts for me? Be sure to review!**

**So sorry I've taken so much longer than usual! My muse was just… **_**not **_**feeling very generous.**

**Merlin is about 7 months old in this one; I wanted to fast forward a bit.**

**In response to an earlier review commenting on how smart Merlin was for his age: Yes, he is! While he may be lacking physically, he's way ahead in mental strength! Don't be surprised if he acts a little older than he really is! **

**Sorry, this one's a shortie.**

**Never Quite Lost: Finger Food**

"Merlin, so help me, eat your dinner or I'll make you!" Arthur exclaimed, not caring if the baby couldn't quite understand him. Sighing in defeat, he dropped the feeding spoon and sat back in his chair. Merlin laughed and continued magically flinging his mashed apples at the cooks.

Helga, the head cook, shook her head in exasperation as yet another spoonful of glop hit the wall inches from her face. 'I swear,' she inwardly groaned, 'if that boy wasn't so bloody _charming_, I'd have his tiny behind whipped.'

"Your majesty, I can help." Hunith said, emerging from the kitchens and hanging up her apron. Grabbing a softer fruit, a banana, she took a knife and cut the yellow fruit into very thin slices and set them on a plate, on the floor in front of her son. She crouched down to his level, encouragingly smiling and drawing his attention to the food.

"Merlin, look what mama's got for you!" She cried, patting the ground near the plate. Merlin gracelessly lowered his head to see what she was doing, then reached out a pincer-like grasp and picked up a slice. When mama nodded the affirmative, he smiled a heart-melting grin and stuck it in his mouth. He had just grown in two more teeth, and now was his chance to test them out.

The king watched in fascination and humor as the raven-haired baby never quite closed his lips, chewing with his mouth wide open. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration and his little tongue constantly swept over the new food, scoping its texture. Finally, he decided that he _liked_ the banana, and flapped his arms up and down after he finally swallowed.

"Moeh! Moah!" He cried, using a word he heard repeated often. He had learned from Ju-Ju that this word meant receiving more of whatever it was that he wanted. Hunith smiled and patted the plate again.

Merlin was thrilled at being able to feed himself. He was never allowed to put anything in his own mouth, and it provided a new challenge; it involved lots of hand-eye-mouth coordination.

As he stuffed even more of his favorite fruit into his mouth, he clapped his hands and kicked his legs, and the chairs around the great banquet hall started scraping back and forth across the stone floor.

Helga, glad the flinging tirade was at least finished, graciously brought out a tray of carefully-cut chicken, pear, and cheese, along with a cup of water. The food was literally devoured in less than ten minutes.

"_Mer_lin, you piglet!" Arthur teased, swooping down and taking the child into his arms. He spun him around and threw him up in the air, catching him and then kissing under his chin, where he knew he was ticklish. The boy laughed loudly, flashing a giant smile at his father-figure. Hunith watched on with a look of pure bliss on her face.

When the play had settled down, with Merlin resting in the crook of Arthur's arm, the boy decided he wanted to impress the man.

"Pifet! Pigwet!" He cried, getting more excited with each try as they brought him closer to the word he had heard. "PIGLET!" He shouted, his eyes glinting with pride and excitement. Arthur's stunned look lasted only a moment before he recovered and beamed at the lad.

"Good, Merlin! Good! Can you say it again?" The boy watched his mouth very carefully, the intensity in his gaze making him look hilarious.

Finally, he opened his mouth once more. "'Gin! Gen! Ahgin!" He tried, but he grew frustrated as he couldn't repeat his papa.

"Merlin, try saying 'arís'. It's much easier." Hunith intervened, having noticed how precariously the king's wine-filled goblet was perched on the table. She repeated the word a few more times, until that determined glint was behind his eyes yet again.

"Rís! Arís!" He exclaimed happily. She smiled and nodded to her son.

"There you go, good job!"

"What'd Merlie do?" Julia asked happily as she skipped into the room. Gaius had given her a break from her duties, and she had heard that her little brother was in the great hall.

"Ju Ju! JU JU!" Merlin cried, almost screaming for no reason other than pure excitement. She beamed at him and ran to his side, plopping down on the ground next to him.

"Merlie, Merlie, gues what? Uncle Gaius says he'll teach me to be a ph-physician!" She exclaimed, her dreams coming true. Ever since the destruction of her village and the constant illness that had plagued- and eventually killed- her family, she swore she would learn how to help others and prevent people from dying the same horrible death.

While usually the reminder would upset her, whenever she was around Merlin, she was alright. She didn't know if he was magicking her, or if he just represented her new family. Although it was unofficial (for the time being, Arthur had been thinking deviously), she had basically adopted herself into their little misfit family. She acted as Gwen's maidservant only when necessary; most of her time with the queen was spent discussing various topics, such as Gwen's story of servant to queen- Julia's favorite story. Sometimes they hugged, and Gwen would sometimes do the girl's hair for her, and Julia would make her little trinkets and other odds and ends that her own mother had once taught her. There was clearly a mother-daughter relationship budding.

Time spent with Arthur, while less often, was no less familial. Arthur had the pleasure of explaining what it meant to be royalty, the duty to his people, and the amazing feeling of helping his citizens. He took pleasure in explaining this to her because it was nice that someone was curious enough to actually ask about it. Most others just assumed or kept their mouth shut. Julia would give him 'writing prompts' for his upcoming speeches, and she would chatter on and on about little baby Merlin's accomplishments while the king just smiled and listened.

Julia was almost always found- when not with the others- with Gaius, desperately asking hundreds of unique questions about such and such, this and that, and drinking in all he had to say with undying thirst. Sometimes, when the work got to be too tiring for her to walk home at night, Gaius would let her use Merlin's old chambers, tucking her in and giving her a sleeping tonic.

Her strongest relationship was with Merlin, though. She constantly played with him, taught him, talked with him, and did other things like dressing him and feeding him when the others were too busy. Sometimes the king would pass by the nursery and overhear Julia talking endlessly to someone. He would then peek in and find, as always, the eleven-year-old sitting on her knees, pulling a shirt over the younger child's head or playing toy knights with him as she explained her day thoroughly to little Merlin. He would listen to her the whole time, seeming actually interested in whatever came from her mouth.

"Merlin, isn't that great?" She asked, taking his newfound vocabulary in stride. She had known about his talking for a while now; in fact, she had been the first one he'd learned his words from.

"Gweah!" He repeated happily, eager to show his big sister how smart he was. She grinned, then stood to retrieve an apple from the table before plopping on her dirty skirt right back on the floor. She took a giant bite, giggling when a spray of apple juice hit Merlin in the forehead. He jumped, and the look of deep-thought confusion on his face was enough to make her struggle to keep from choking. The boy reached a long-fingered hand up to his head and wiped the juice off, before sticking his finger in his mouth and tasting. His eyes lit up.

"Miss Hunith, can Merlie have a bita' my apple?" Julia asked. Hunith nodded, knowing he wouldn't even be able to get that much off anyway, so there was a very slim chance of choking.

The girl pressed the apple to the child's closed mouth, waiting until he took the hint and opened it again. He took a giant (not that big) bite with his tiny front teeth, then chewed the fleck of fruit with his mouth open and his eyes furrowed in concentration.

Then, he started kicking his legs wildly, his eyes wide open and his mouth pulled in the biggest smile ever. His breathing became erratic and a bit wheezy in his excitement, and suddenly the chandelier was tilting back and forth ominously.

"Merlin! Merlin, calm down." Hunith warned, taking the apple away and replacing it with a piece of cut chicken. He frowned comically before dejectedly stuffing his face.

They all unanimously decided that they would they would save the apples for when he was older, when he could handle it.

**Okay, I know this is becoming one of those "adopt every OC into the family" stories, but I think Merlie needs a big sibling, and since I had kinda killed off any chances of royal big siblings before I realized my mistake, I couldn't figure out what else to do. So, enter Julia.**

**Sorry if you think it's incredibly corny!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Where are ya'll? It's been sooooo long since I've heard from my favorite readers! Feedback is the only payment I get for writing this, and I really want to know how well I'm doing!**

**I'm sorry for waiting this long to update! Life loves to get in my way!**

**Merlin is one year old! Yay!**

**Never Quite Lost: Big Brother Gwaine**

"Merlin! Get back here, ya little Doofus!" Gwaine called, running after the crawling child. Gwen was following two steps behind him.

The knight had just happened to be strolling along, minding his own business, when he had almost run headfirst into a flustered Queen Guenivere. She had explained how she had been playing games with him and he decided to run away. It had been cute at first, but after he had started crawling the length of the castle, she realized the mistake.

Little booger was most likely magically increasing his speed. Otherwise, Gwaine was sure he would have caught him by now. It was just unnatural.

Merlin, dressed in a new form of baby clothes- pajamas that covered from the bottom of your feet to your neck- giggled with glee and pressed forward. He crawled at a dizzying pace, towards the closest stairway.

"MERLIN!" Gwen exclaimed, fear clouding her features as she thought of every possible outcome.

Time seemed to slow as the toddler reached the top of the stairs and started down. His little hand slipped, and he was pitching forwards to the hard, distant ground. He cried out in pain as his back hit the first in a series of stairs. His eyes were wide and his breathing hitched.

Gwaine raced to the stairwell around the corner, preparing himself for what exactly he might see.

Merlin lay there, at the bottom, with his eyes closed and watery. When he opened them, the golden shade faded back to blue, and tears raced down his chubby cheeks. He had a little arm trying to reach for his aching back, but other than that, he looked virtually unharmed.

Without hesitating, the knight rushed down the steps and scooped the light child into his arms, holding him to his shoulder as the boy let out a scared sob. Drool fell from the babe's mouth and soaked his chainmail. He placed a hand under the boy's head and rocked him slowly, kissing his unruly curls.

"Merlin, shh, you're alright. Tá tú ceart go leor." Merlin sobbed some more, and while Gwaine comforted him, Gwen gently searched him for injury. He choked up when she touched his lower back, and the two adults shared a look. With a nod, Gwaine marched his charge down to Gaius' chambers. He hoped the boy hadn't broken anything.

After helping the aged physician remove the top of Merlin's pajamas, the man ran his hand through the raven hair in a calming gesture, successfully distracting him as Gaius checked the giant purple bruise forming. He assured Gwaine that Merlin was fine; he was lucky his magic had reacted, and that he just needed more calm activities to do while he recovered emotionally.

"How is he? We didn't let him trigger another cough-up, did we?" Gwen asked worriedly, rushing forward. She had gone to grab Merlin's new blanket to comfort the lad. Gwaine nodded reassuringly, leading the way to Merlin's nursery. He stopped when there was a mumble into his shoulder.

"What, Merlin? Speak up." He said gently, bouncing him. Merlin sat his head up, fixing his friend with a red-rimmed gaze. He looked so pitiful, and his eyes still had a glint of fear in them.

"Hu'ts. Ba'." He repeated, searching his limited vocabulary for the right words. He reached for Gwen's hand, and then pushed all of her fingers down, except for her pointer finger. Grabbing her wrist, he steered her fingertip until it touched the spot in question. "Hu's. Ni'… n'mhn'ch." He said, trying to pronounce the same word in Irish in case Gwaine for some reason didn't understand.

The man smiled and kissed the boy's forehead.

"I know it hurts, Merlin. You took a nasty spill back there. But you'll be okay. Right, Gwen?" The queen nodded with a confident smile. Merlin's lips twitched a bit, and he leaned in Gwaine's arms to reach her. The knight stepped closer, and while Gwaine held him upright in his arms, Merlin reached out and gave Guenivere a little hug. She felt her heart melt in her chest.

When the toddler pulled away, she straightened her dress and reluctantly explained that she had three meetings to attend to. Gwaine was placed in charge of Merlin's care until Hunith was free in a few hours. Gwaine reassured her that they would be fine, and with one last farewell and one last goodbye kiss on the warlock's forehead, she left the two boys to their activities.

"So Merlin, what do you want to do?" Gwaine asked excitedly as he resumed the short walk to the nursery. The child looked rather thoughtful for a moment.

"See mama!" He decided and clapped happily. His caretaker shook his head.

"Sorry lad, mama's busy. What _else _do you want to do?"

"Tan we ma'e some cwaffs? Bea's!" He exclaimed. The knight considered this. 'It's rather cold, and Merlin's not too tough. But, he does want to make crafts, and we have to buy some beads. Maybe we could… aw, who am I kidding? I can't say no to that little face! Besides, I'm sure Hunith won't mind him being out in the cold for a few measly minutes if it means that her son can be artistic.'

"Alright, we'll do crafts. But first, we have to get some supplies from the market, okay?" Merlin kicked his legs, thrilled with the prospect of going **outside**. His mother hardly let him go out now that winter approached, and he barely remembered what it was like. He desperately wanted to go, all his pain momentarily forgotten.

"Otay! Otay! Go! Go!" He cried loudly. Gwaine smiled and proceeded to Merlin's nursery, deciding on putting two extra layers of clothing over his pajamas for warmth. He put several coins in his pocket, grabbed a swaddled Merlin, and sneakily headed for the bustling sea that was the marketplace. He kept the boy firmly held against his chest, and made sure that his sword was in its sheath.

If he had had any doubts before about taking Merlin outside, they had completely dissipated by now. The look of absolute wonder and excitement on the round face warmed him from inside out. He chuckled when the boy started investigating everything around him with his eyes.

Everything was so much bigger than him! The clouds, and the people! The buildings, the animals, it was all so exciting!

They carefully made their way to a nearby stall that had many glass beads on display. A young woman of about twenty years stood behind the display, with long, blonde hair and bright green eyes. She was very pretty.

Gwaine awkwardly put Merlin on his boot-clad feet and distractedly gave him a coin and told him to pick some beads out while he started a conversation with the young lady. He placed the boy's hands on the edge of the cart so that he could stand by himself. Merlin smiled innocently and did as told, his wide eyes scanning over every single bead with an intense gaze. Nothing but perfection would please his needs.

As the knight and the bead-maker (her name, he learned, was Sarah) laughed and talked for a few minutes, the little boy finally chose twelve green beads, four golden beads, sixteen blue beads, and three red beads. He tugged on Gwaine's sleeve to get his attention, but the knight was too busy laughing at something Sarah had said. By the affectionate glaze in her eyes, the girl was most definitely interested.

"G'ane!" Merlin whined, tugging on the red sleeve once more. Gwaine vaguely swatted his hand away and continued talking.

"Wait just a second, squirt." Sarah batted her eyelashes flirtatiously.

"My, good with children, too!" She hummed, not paying the actual child any mind. Gwaine smiled wider, picking the boy up and holding him close.

"Oh, yeah. Kids love me, dontcha, Merlin?" He asked playfully, bouncing Merlin to get his attention. Merlin scowled at his caretaker before gaining a rather evil grin as a plan was formed.

"Ach Gwaine, ní raibh tú ag insint di?" He said in perfect Gaelic, making him quite proud of himself. The knight snapped out of his lovesick daze and eyed the boy suspiciously.

"What exactly d'ya mean, squirt?" He asked in English, for Sarah's benefit. Merlin thought hard for a moment before his mind provided him with the right words.

"Tell hewe?" He asked. Sarah's eyebrow shot up.

"Tell me what, boy?" She inquired. Gwaine then caught the look in the toddler's eye and quickly started making desperate 'stop' motions, but it was to no avail; Merlin's mind was set.

The little child looked to the older girl with wide, childish eyes and frowned comically.

"Din' know?" When she shook her head, he batted his lashes at her and pointed to his big brother. "He sick."

"Sick?" The girl repeated, taking a hasty step back. Gwaine, horrified, tried to shut the boy up, and apologize, anything, really, but Merlin just kept powering on.

"Yeah! Weal bad. Li'e, itzy an' coffie an' fwowin' up!" He exclaimed. The girl eyed the man disgustedly before accepting the coin in Merlin's hand and returning the bag of purchased beads to him, shooing them away. Merlin hugged the beads to his chest, smirking as Gwaine scolded him. He ignored it anyways, although he pretended to look sad every once and a while to get the attention of nearby girls.

One such group of girls saw the man scolding his baby and the tears on the boy's face and immediately flocked around them.

"How could you?"

"He's so little and innocent!"

"Wha's wrong with ya!" They shouted, while Gwaine blanched. Merlin decided to mend the situation, not liking the large crowd.

"Iss otay! I otay!" He exclaimed, raising his hands in the air. The angry shouting stopped, but at the dubious look in the leader's eyes, he pulled out the big guns.

Blinking his eyes and snuggling his face to hide in Gwaine's chainmail, he stared out at the head girl and mumbled, "She pwetty."

It was an ingenious plan, if only it hadn't backfired.

Instantly, a chorus of coos and squeals of adoration filled the air, and the next thing they knew, they were running for their lives. Seriously, what _was_ it with women today?

Gwaine just barely made it to the castle before the women lost them, and together they snuck to Merlin's nursery. The knight sunk to the ground in the security of the darkening room, the small child right next to him, panting just as heavily.

"Oi, Merlin." Gwaine said in a scolding tone, causing said boy to jump. The fear in his eyes was evident, and Gwaine couldn't stay angry for long. He smiled and ruffled the dark curls. "I didn't know you had it ya." He only laughed at the boy's confused face.

"G'ane! Tan we mate da cwaffs now? Tan we?" Merlin brightened suddenly, holding his bag of beads. Gwaine nodded and the boy squealed happily, beginning his work.

Two hours (and lots of help) later, the boy had created two bracelets and a string of beads. The blue and golden one was for 'mama', and the green and blue and red one was for 'Mamaí'. When Gwaine asked whom the string was for, Merlin flushed a little and handed it to him, the green and golden beads shimmering in the light of the fire.

"'S fowe you. Cos youwe my big bwovew and I sowwy fo bein' a turcaí."

Gwaine accepted the gift with a giant, face-splitting grin, and he swooped the boy into a hug. Merlin gladly hugged him back, arms just barely reaching around his neck.

From this position, Merlin took the string and tied it to a lock of the man's hair, taking a very agonizingly long time to get it correct. But, Gwaine was patient. Finally, it was done, and Gwaine promised his baby brother that he would never take it off.

"Do you dragan pwomise?" Merlin demanded, holding out his hand with his fingers spread. Gwaine smiled, placed his spread fingers over the tinier ones, and nodded.

"I dragan promise." The child smiled at him with glee. He grinned, and then picked him up. "Now come on, let's get one of these onion-clothing-layers off before you sweat through them all."

**I know, not my finest chapter, but it's a chapter all the same. I hope you enjoyed!**

**Please be sure to leave me a review! **

**Translations:**

**But Gwaine, didn't you tell her?**

**Mommy**

**Turkey**

**Dragon**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey guys! Please don't kill me for being so horribly late!**

**This has literally been one of the busiest months of my life. Updates may slow down from now on, but I promise I haven't forgotten about this story!**

**As I just said, I am INCREDIBLY busy this month, so this 'back from no updating' icebreaker is a tad… shorter. So sorry, but I hope you enjoy regardless!**

**Also, a way to fuel my motivation to get this written would be to help me with the very first step of chapter-writing, which is coming up with ideas. That makes my job a whole lot easier, so please drop a suggestion in the reviews or PM me, and I'd be glad to write a chapter in your honor!**

**Note: Merlin is 18 mos. in this chapter. (A year and a half) Final note: I know it's hard to understand Merlin's baby gibberish (by which I mean whenever he's speaking in English), but if you say it aloud or read it by how it sounds, you should be able to get what he's saying.**

**Chapter 14: Why?**

"Mamaí?" Hunith smiled as she heard the tiny voice pipe up from behind her. She turned and smiled at her young son.

"Yes?" She was trying to encourage his use of English with her, but he seemed determined to keep Gaelic with her and English with everybody else.

"An féidir liom eitilt?" He continued in Gaelic. She blinked, not expecting that question. Merlin, noticing her startled pause, turned his head towards her with a curious gaze. His piercing blue eyes met her brown-blue speckled ones, and she sighed.

"No, Merlin. The birds outside can fly, because they have wings; we cannot because we don't have wings." The boy seemed to think on this for a moment before returning his head to his arms, watching the birds that flew past the window.

"Why?" he asked in English.

"Because that's just the way we are made." She answered patiently. A few more moments went past before she shrugged and returned to making the bed. He had been following her all day, even when she had volunteered to clean the monarchs' bedroom while they were away for a few days.

"An gcaithfidh mé a daidí?" This question made her drop her sheet with a start, and she whipped around to face him to see that he hadn't moved.

"Sweetheart, your real father is no longer… with us. But Arthur is trying to be, don't you think? We all love you very much." She could see the water building up in his eyes as he looked to her with a forlorn look.

"W-why?" He sobbed. Confused, Hunith ran forward and picked up, holding him to her for comfort.

"'Why' what?" There was a short pause before he sniffled and turned a red-rimmed gaze to her.

"Why daidí weave ush? Why ish he not hewe, duz he not lub me?" He whimpered pitifully. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she hugged him tightly once more, beginning to pace around the room and rock him.

"Oh, my dearest. Ní raibh Papa ag iarraidh a fhágáil linn. Ní féidir sé a bheith le linn, ach loves sé dúinn. Is breá leis leat, Meirliún." She soothed, rubbing his back.

"Buh erybuyee ewse haz a daidí! Why no me?" By now he seemed to emotionally exhausted to translate his speech to Gaelic. Hunith's heart was breaking, but she firmly set her resolve. Taking a bent finger and using it to lift his chubby chin, she looked him right in the eye.

"Merlin, it doesn't matter what everyone else has or hasn't. It doesn't matter what they say. All that matters is that you have a family that loves you, and loves you very much at that. Don't let other people make you sad, okay? Because you have people who love you and love to see you happy. Can you be happy for me?"

She knew how as an adult, Merlin had been known for his cheerfulness. Unfortunately, that happiness and natural smile had been learned, had come with age and the maturity to laugh the cruel words away. Young Merlin did not have those skills yet, and only the fact that this wasn't her first time dealing with this situation made her better at handling it. It didn't make it any easier though, to see her child suffering and watching other children and their fathers with a 'hidden' look of longing in his eyes.

Merlin looked away before nodding, sloppily wiping the tears away with his sleeve and looking back up to her face, smiling widely. She tapped his nose with her finger and laughed.

"There's my Merlin." She cooed encouragingly before placing him on the ground and stooping in front of him. He sat on his knees and placed his hands on her arms, waiting for her to speak.

"Son, I know you miss your real father. I know that, even though you love Arthur," He nodded vehemently, looking very serious, "you still want your real daidí… Do you still have Kigrah?" She asked. He thought for a moment and nodded. Crawling over to the corner, he grabbed his bag and rifled through the various odds and ends (that only a child could find worthy of packing and carrying around) and pulled out the carved, wooden dragon. He passed it to her and watched intently.

She lightly ran a finger down the smooth beast's back. "Your daidí made this for you, many years ago." When she said this, he started getting very excited, flapping his hands and kicking his legs. "He made this to show you how much he loves you. Merlin, whenever you get lonely, or someone else makes you feel bad about not having your real daidí, just remember Kigrah and keep him close, and you'll feel your father there with you. Always remember that, okay? You are never alone." With that, she gently gave it back to him. He took it into his small hands reverently, much more respectfully than he had just minutes before. He stared, wide-eyed at the beautiful dragon sculpture that he had always loved. Here it was, proof that he had a daidí. That he was real. That he loved Merlin.

Squealing, he pulled it to his chest and hugged it.

"Fada liom uaim daidí agat, ach is breá liom tú. Fada liom uaim i ndáiríre tú, ach tá mé Arfur anois agus Kigrah mar sin ní bheidh mé brónach, agus is féidir liom a bheith sásta mar a deir Mamaí ba chóir dom a bheith. Maith go leor? Tá súil agam a chloisteáil tú é seo, daidí." And with that silent prayer, he went off to play, Kigrah right by his side.

**I know, shortie. I am also aware that it's kind of mean to make him miss his daddy and forget about Arthur, but I think he would still miss his original father. He sees other kids his age with their fathers and knows that even though he has a similar relationship with Arthur, something's different. He can feel something missing.**

**Anyways, that's my rant for the day.**

**Argos: Thanks! Yeah, I had myself a little worried at first, too! It's great to get your reviews!**

**Translations:**

**Mommy?**

**Can I fly?**

**Do I have a daddy?**

**Papa did not want to leave us. He cannot be with us, but he loves us. He loves you, Merlin.**

**I miss you daddy, but I love you. I really miss you, but I have Arfur now and Kigrah so I won't be sad, and I can be happy like Mommy says I should be. Okay? I hope you hear this, daddy.**

***** daidí- daddy**

**Please be sure to leave a review!**


	15. Chapter 15

**I know I've mentioned before how busy this month is for me, but I just HAD to do a Halloween chapter! It's not exactly horror, but you'll understand after you read.**

**Merlin is 2 years old! Yay!**

**Never Quite Lost: Imaginary**

**Chapter 15**

"That's it, Merlin, breathe. It's almost over, 's almost over." Gwen soothed the coughing child as he struggled. She rubbed soft circles into his baby-soft back, while her other hand held him steady in her lap.

Today was cough-up day. Although it had been only four days since his last cough-up, Gaius became concerned with his thick wheezing and decided Gwen should use the treatment again to help him breathe better.

Merlin, blue-faced and slobbery, was looking at her with teary eyes. He knew this was supposed to be good for him, but that didn't make it any less scary. He felt like he was dying, like any moment now that tiny hole in the sputum allowing him breath would close up forever, and he'd have to suffocate in silence. He sucked in a breath, coughed. Repeated. He had been trying to find certain ways to go about this to get the 'ucky stuff' out sooner, but so far he had found no patterns. Suck in a breath, clear throat, gasp, cough, gag. After a few minutes, he felt the gob give way slightly, and that was all the incentive he needed. He coughed vigorously, redoubling his efforts and positively hacking until finally, _finally_, the dead flesh and phlegm popped out of his open mouth, and he dragged in a gigantic breath of relief. It was over. He was okay.

"There's a good boy, Merlin." Gwen hummed, calmly pulling a shirt over his head and tying his favorite neckerchief around his neck. Merlin smiled at her, absolutely pleased, and wiped the tears away with a fat little hand.

He cleared his throat for a moment before speaking.

"Can I pway wif Juju now?" He rasped. The queen smiled and nodded, sent a servant to fetch Julia, and knelt down to the floor. She sat him on the ground, made sure he was steady on his own, and quickly cleaned at the new mess on the floor.

Merlin crawled over, patting her hand. She stopped her scrubbing and turned to him.

"Yes, Merlin?" The child eyed her hands for a moment.

"Tan I help? I make the mesh, an' Mamai says I 'sposed to cleen up da meshes." His big, innocently blue eyes were too much for her resolve. She retrieved a clean rag from the basket and handed it to him, letting him scrub a 'dirty' piece of tile that, in reality, was several feet away from the actual mess. But, seeing his giant smile and intense concentration, Gwen knew he didn't care. He was going to clean the _heck_ out of that square.

"Did you call for me?" Julia asked in a rush, hurrying through the door and almost tripping on the raven-haired toddler. "Ooh, Merlie, so sorry!" She exclaimed, righting the oblivious boy and continuing to Gwen's side. The queen sat on her knees and beckoned the brunette to sit next to her.

"Merlin wanted to play with you, but let's give him a moment to finish his job." She whispered to her daughter. They watched with stifled giggles as he stuck his tongue out and crinkled his brow in complete and utter intensity. The rag was wiped harshly back and forth over and over, and it wasn't until he had sweat on his neck and an annoyed look on his face that he finally paused. He sat back on his knees and looked to the space next to him.

"'s nawt funny, Will!" He groaned in a weary voice, sounding like a tiny adult. The girls looked at each other in confusion. Merlin, ignoring them, continued after a moment, nodding, "Yeah, but I like cle-cle-" He frowned for a moment before exclaiming, "cleaning!" He was clearly proud of himself. He listened to nothing for a few seconds before whining.

"No, I don' wanna pway wif you right now, Will!" He sounded almost angry. Gwen froze, connecting the dots. He had an imaginary friend. It would have been an adorable moment for her, if she hadn't remembered Merlin talking constantly about a boy he grew up with in Ealdor. A boy named William. Hadn't he died in that small battle? Yes, she remembered now. And she wondered if maybe Merlin was seeing ghosts now.

"Ugh, _fine._ You do it, den!" He cried, dropping the rag on the floor in front of him. Gwen sighed in relief when nothing happened. According to her experience with ghosts, they are able to manipulate inanimate objects, including lighting fires and dragging certain queens by their feet down a hallway. So when the rag didn't move and yet Merlin still seemed content with Will's good job 'cleaning', she released her held breath and smiled. He was just imagining, like all the little boys his age do.

She gently nudged Julia forward, whispering, "Go on, try playing with him and his friend." Julia looked confused but nodded. She awkwardly inched her way over, not being able to move in this ridiculously pompous dress.

She reached the two-year-old's other side, tapped his shoulder and asked, "Can I play with you guys?" Merlin eagerly nodded yes, and they began imaginary playing, Julia carrying him around and pretending to be his dragon, or his horse, or the princess he has to save. Even though he hardly understood what exactly they were pretending, Merlin thoroughly enjoyed every moment of it.

He especially loved playing Dragons with his sister and his (awfully adult-looking) best friend.

**Ooh! Sorry, I had to do it!**

**I hope you all enjoyed this shortie!**

**Oh, and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Never Quite Lost: Terror Comes Not With Age**

"_Arthur!" The king hurriedly turned on his heel, his long blonde hair flopping in his eyes. Seeing his wife lying a few feet away, he rushed forward._

"_Guenivere!" He screamed, dropping to her side. Blood rushed from her lips and her breathing was weak. Her eyes were sewn shut._

"_Arthur, you did this!" She cried up at him, her clawed hand reaching up and slashing his cheek. The mighty Arthur had to hold in his sobs. This couldn't be his beloved wife. It couldn't, because if it was, he would break._

"_No, I didn't! I tried to help you! I really did!" He begged, making contact with her clenched eyelids. He cradled her fighting form in his lap and tried to avoid glancing even remotely near the two unbreathing, bloody fetuses at her feet. And then another body was laid before him and his queen. It was taller, lankier, and it was horribly familiar. It was Merlin, just as Arthur remembered him._

_He was in even worse condition than Gwen. His eyes and mouth had been sewn shut, blood seeped from between the threads, and there was a large, gaping hole in his chest. Arthur could see the golden glow from behind his eyelids. He slowly rose to his knees and pointed at Arthur, his voice echoing thousands of accusations and insults inside the king's head. Arthur clutched his ears and screamed._

"MERLIN! GWEN!" Arthur woke up sobbing. He bolted upright, and winced at the rush of dizziness he felt. Tears still lingered on his face and his hands were clutching the armrests of his chair like he was going to go flying if he didn't.

He was in the throne room, sitting on his mighty golden throne. His crown was lopsided and his cape had been thrown off to the side. He was alone in the large, imposing room.

"It was just a dream, just a dream." He whispered to himself, taking deep, slow breaths until he was calmer. The relief he felt barely matched his fear. While what he had seen had most certainly scarred him, he had been relieved to know it wasn't real, it was over. He felt so conflicted. That was one of his worst fears, and he had just seen it like it had indeed been realized.

Letting out a shaky breath, the king sunk his head into his hands and wept.

~oOo~

"'wen? You gonna feel be'er? You need to feel be'er so we can pway dragons!" Merlin exclaimed excitedly, bouncing around on his knees on the soft mattress.

"Merlin, calm down." Gwen lightly scolded, holding in the bile her jostled stomach was threatening to expel. Merlin sheepishly obeyed. "Sweetheart, I promise I'll feel better soon, okay? I just don't feel better right now." She said slowly. A worried frown covered the child's face.

"Are you otay? You're otay, right? Youwe not gonna go brrr, right? Don't go brrrr!" He cried, and the queen noticed the sudden water buildup in his cerulean orbs.

Alarmed, Gwen hurried to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. He sniffled.

"Merlin, what does that mean?" She asked carefully. He let out a sob and launched himself forward, tackling her into her pillow and clinging to her stomach in a desperate hug. Although it made it twice as hard to keep from vomiting, and she was sure her face must have been completely green, Guenivere smiled sadly and hugged the little boy closer, running her fingers through his raven hair and tucking it behind his oversized, comical ears. She let him cry into her nightdress, soothing him whilst simultaneously trying to avoid breathing her sick air on him. After a few minutes, Merlin's teary, muffled explanation was heard.

"Don't go brrr! I don' wan' you to! Youwe have da red all ovewe, and youwe say youwe otay ,but den youwe gimme a hug and youwe 'top movin, and den youwe get weally tode and hawd, and youwe 'kin 'll git awe whi'e, and you won' wake up! Don't go brr, please!*****" He lisped around his gappy teeth. Gwen puzzled it out in her head, and then vomited into the chamber pot below. Merlin let go of her and let her finish, crawling to the opposite side of the bed and sitting, picking at his fingernails. He was still crying, but he figured he should keep it quiet if it was making Gwen sick. He felt so guilty, this was his fault! He could vaguely see Will standing by the stained glass windows, silently begging him not blame himself, but he looked away, glad he couldn't hear his friend. He didn't deserve the comfort right now.

When Gwen had spat up the last bit of bile and had straightened herself out again, her head still reeled. Why would baby Merlin remember death? Does he understand what it ultimately means, or just what it looks like? Who does he remember dying? Why does he have to remember _that_, of all things? Poor, poor child.

"Merlin." She rasped, trying to steady her voice in her raw throat. He looked up at her, tilting his head and not bothering to wipe the snot from his face. He looked so innocent, so vulnerable. She smiled reassuringly and beckoned him to lay against her side. Once they were settled, she began to explain.

"Merlin, 'going brrr,' as you put it, means to die. When we die, our bodies get cold, and our souls go to heaven. When we die, there's no more pain. We are always happy. And when we die, it's always for a reason. Merlin, I am not going to die, because this is not a deadly disease, okay? I would never leave you. I promise, you have nothing to fear. So please, forget that awful memory. Think of death as, as moving on. Don't think about going brr." As she spoke, the boy visibly brightened, and he nodded resolutely. Then, he hugged her again, much lighter this time.

"Tank you, 'wen." He whispered, and they sat like that, in silence, for who knows how long. Both were at peace, comfortably resting and being heated by the other.

And then Merlin bolted upright with a wail.

"Arfur!" He exclaimed, hurriedly climbing to the edge of the bed. Before Gwen could reach out and grab him, he had already slid down the side and landed with a thud on his bum. That didn't stop him, however, and his eyes had a determined glint. Gwen tried to stand and chase after him, but was too weak to sit up.

"Merlin, where are you going?" She called as he crawled to the nearest wall. He didn't answer her; just grabbed the tapestry hanging from the stones and pulled with all his might. Had he been bigger, he could have torn the thing off the wall, but being his size, he was able to pull himself to a stand. Gwen stared, dumbstruck, as his resolve never wavered and he took a step away from his solid support.

His legs wobbled under his own weight and his knobby knees bowed, threatening to buckle. Merlin bit his lower lip and took another step further, holding his arms out for balance.

"I gawta get ta Arfur!" He cried, adventurously moving forward again. But this time, his left knee sprung forwards, and he began falling backwards, mouth open in a surprised shriek. His eyes flashed gold, and the suit of armor across the room sprinted forward, catching him and safely raising him back to his feet.

Once he was standing again, Merlin made another fearless attempt at walking, using magic to rip his slippery socks off first. Now that he had traction, he made much better progress, though the empty armor was always two steps behind, cautiously waiting in case he needed it again.

Once he finally got the hang of it, and he had practiced walking round the room a few times, he began to pick up his pace at regular intervals until he was galloping the awkward skip all young children have a habit of doing. His eyes were gleaming with pride and glee, but his mouth and eyebrows were still set in firm determination.

Without a word to his adoptive mother, Merlin trotted out the door, headed down the hall. An additional wave of magic swept through the room as an afterthought, collapsing the armor to the floor, easing Gwen's aches and pains and lowering her fever, then pulling her into a restful sleep before she could protest or send someone after him.

He made his way down the hall, animating any suits of armor nearby to catch him if he fell, then found himself at the stairs, the only obstacle between him and his Once and Future King.

Sweat beading on his brow, Merlin slowly and meticulously eased himself onto the first step, sitting on his butt and scooting down to plop onto the next one. He continued this for another twenty-three stairs (he counted for future use) and then tiredly pulled himself up to stand once more. He ran as fast as his teeny legs would carry him, down several long, large corridors until he stood before the humongous doors to the throne room. He could hear and sense someone sobbing inside; he knew that someone was Arthur. He had felt the intense pain his other half had felt; he had felt the throbbing heart and teary eyes and the strong sense of loss and grief. He knew Arthur needed him right now, when he could not have his wife.

Walking forward and leaning against the sturdy wood, he knocked five times and asked, "Arfur?" When no answer came, he huffed and magically shoved the doors open.

~oOo~

The door suddenly banged open with a loud clash, making the king jump in surprise. He hurriedly wiped the tears away and turned to look away from whichever subject this was; trying to uphold his dignity.

"Ah, yes. Apologies, what did you nee- OOF-!" He wheezed as a small weight slammed into his stomach. He immediately went on the defensive, trying to figure out who had attacked him.

"Arfur! You otay?" Came the welcomed, sweet little voice. He sighed in relief and put on a teary smile.

"Yes, Merlin. I'm fine." He assured, before thinking of something. "Wait, how did you get in here?" Merlin looked up at him and smiled a toothy smile.

"Li'e dis!" He said proudly, jumping down from the king's lap and standing shakily on his two feet. Arthur beamed at him, joy swelling up inside him. Merlin was finally walking.

"Great job, Merlin! Who taught you?" Merlin confusedly told him that nobody had, he learned himself. He then proceeded to run around in jovial circles, his face split in a genuine, giddy grin. His long raven hair flopped around, sometimes blown behind him, sometimes whipped into his face. His cheeks were flushed and there was some major hand flapping going on as well. Excited giggles escaped his mouth.

Arthur, heart melting in his chest, couldn't resist his innocent happiness and jumped from his throne, chased after his son, and when he had swept him into his protective arms, he placed a kiss on his sweaty forehead. They sat on the cold stone floor, breathing heavily as they calmed down from their game. Arthur looked to his adoptive son.

"How did you get down here, anyway?" Merlin cocked an eyebrow, as if saying, 'are you stupid?' Arthur wondered if that look could be counted as blasphemy. Merlin had always been more brains than brawn, Arthur knew, but as a child he was overwhelmingly so. Arthur sometimes almost forgot he was only a toddler with his sass and large (although lisped) vocabulary.

"I wa'ed, 'membewe?" He smiled charmingly, though the king could sense his confusion.

"No, I mean, who came with you?" Merlin shook his head, nobody. "Why did you come here, then?" It's not that he wasn't overjoyed by his intervention, but he was still concerned. Did his guards and servants really let a toddler run freely about the castle? And what was the boy's reasoning? He had been keeping a sick Gwen company while Arthur did his kingly duties. Had something happened to her?

Merlin, instantly reading his panic, smiled calmly. Arthur wasn't sure, but as his nerves calmed themselves, he thought he had seen a flash of golden in those navy depths.

"I tame betawse you nee'ed me." He explained, pointing a long, thin finger at Arthur's chest. Of their own accord, the events of his gory nightmare played vividly through his mind, and he winced. As the dream played on repeat, he noticed a stricken look on Merlin's face as well, and his tears matched Arthur's own. Was he watching this? Before he could demand that Merlin shield himself from the horror, it was over, the images shrinking away to the very back of his mind until their stabbing pain was nothing but a little sting. His muscles relaxed, and Merlin opened his eyes rather sluggishly, letting out a slow breath before perking up again.

Without speaking, they both knew that the gore was cleansed from their minds forever. And although Arthur hated that Merlin had just put himself through that, he was eternally grateful as well. And even more so that the boy seemed to have forgotten it all completely.

"Thank you, Merlin." He said honestly, though his heart was heavy at the boy's solemn face. Merlin picked up on this as well, and his solemnity became determination.

"Arfur, you gawta 'top worryin' about da past. I otay, 'wen is otay, an' youwe otay. So 'top cwyin' an' be happy!" He insisted. Arthur already felt better, and looked at him curiously.

"You're very bossy, you know." He said with a fake frown. Merlin pouted, though he had to fight his laughter pretty hard.

"Yeah, wewe 'top whinin' about it!" He said haughtily, a smile breaking out on his face.

"Ugh, you're such a _girl_, Merlin!" Arthur accidentally slipped into their old banter. Merlin paused, his smile slipping until he was staring at Arthur dead-on, not blinking. He was frowning intensely.

Arthur panicked, wondering if he had triggered some memory for Merlin, and wondering that, if he had, were there more that had come to light? What was he thinking right now? Had he ruined life for his son?

Ominously, Merlin leaned forward, and Arthur hesitantly did so as well.

Merlin opened his mouth, still scowling, and said in a fierce whisper,

"At leas' I'm not a cloppole."

Then he leaned backwards, almost falling, as he laughed uncontrollably.

Arthur, though in shock, couldn't prevent laughing with him for very long.

Sometimes it was good to have cheeky, classic Merlin back.

"Don't be supercilious, now, Merlin!"

"Whatevewe, dollophead."

Even though he _was _a smart-aleck.

**Merlin's Baby-Talk Translation: "Don't go brr! I don't want you to! You'll have the red all over, and you'll say you're okay, but then you'll give me a hug and you'll stop moving, and then you'll get really cold and hard and then your skin will get all white and you won't wake up!"**


	17. Chapter 17

**I am so, so sorry for the delay! Holiday seasons and such!**

**Got any ideas for my future chapters? Leave them in the reviews or PM me!**

**Merlin is technically 3 in this chapter.**

**Never Quite Lost: A Birthday Encounter and its Lost Boy**

"Merlin, darling, wake up." Hunith crooned as she gently shook the sleeping child's shoulder. Merlin groaned and swatted lazily at her hand, refusing to open his eyes.

"Mamai, please lmma sleeeep…" he grumbled. She smiled and beckoned her secret weapon closer.

Julia, clad in her finest party dress, leaned over the rail of the cradle and flexed her fingers, cracking them in anticipation. In his muddled brain, Merlin sleepily matched that noise to his sister, wondering what she was planning… his eyes snapped open in horror, but he was too late to save himself as her thin fingers plunged into his swaddled side. Shrieking, the boy writhed and contorted, trying to break free of the blankets that bound him, to no avail.

"Are you awake yet? Huh? Are you awake, Merlie?" Julia panted out between her evil cackles. Merlin tried his best to look defiant, but his face was still forced to smile and laugh with childish glee as he finally escaped his captor and sprung to his feet. He clumsily flung himself over the rail and landed gracelessly on his back, but his continued laughter and sheepish smile reassured the two girls that he was okay.

Hunith chuckled.

"Looks like the birthday boy is finally up." She said. He nodded excitedly at her, but when Julia took a step closer to him, he flinched away, covering his now-exposed ribcage with a distrustful look in his eye. Even her annoying tickling couldn't ruin his day, now that he remembered exactly what day it was.

Then came his usual morning routine. Hunith bathed him, although he insisted that he could do it himself, being a big boy now. Then Julia, who had to chase him around for a few minutes and catch him first, clothed him. Their games were such fun, and she even let him choose what he wore! His treasured red shirt and corresponding blue neckerchief were fisted from the closet, and he kept jumping excitedly as they were pulled over his head. His valiant efforts to tie his own neckerchief were in vain, though, and he reluctantly had to turn around and let his big sister do it. She promised him that one day he could get it on his own.

Then came his least favorite part of the routine: pants.

He liked being clothed, sure, but those pants were just too scratchy for his sensitive skin. He tried to suffer through it, but he always ended up scratching places he really shouldn't scratch, and usually it was in public. Wow, had his mother been embarrassed! He probably would be too, someday, but for now he stuck with being a shameless youth.

And so, as the dreaded _pants_ were carried closer to him, he had to make a split-second decision; honor his own beliefs or satisfy his mother?

The answer to that was simple; he needed to stay strong in his beliefs that pants were evil.

Besides, he was the birthday boy, right? It was obviously not his fault if he decided against his mother.

And so the whole rest of the morning was spent with Hunith, Julia, Gwen, and the knights chasing a flash of pink, half-naked lightning throughout the entire castle, the courtyard, and even the edges of the lower town until he finally tired himself out and was found dozing in the stables among the calves a few hours after the search parties were called out.

And that is the story behind Gwaine's future drunken babbling about "The Day the Pantless Wonder Streaked Camelot."

~oOo~

Fisting his eyes groggily, Merlin slowly sat up and looked around a bit warily, his confusion overtaking his curiosity. When did he get back to his cot? But wait- where were the rails? He was definitely in his room, and this felt like the same cot, but the dungeon-like bars were gone from the sides.

Slowly becoming more confused and –honestly- quite a bit frightened, he grabbed up his favorite blue blanket and Kigrah and held them close, popping his free thumb into his mouth.

"Mamai?" He called around the thumb. When there was no response, he crawled carefully to the edge of the cot- bed, whatever it was- and looked at the floor below. He had fallen from taller heights, but this somehow seemed more intimidating.

He calculated the probabilities of his being injured in his mind, and, realizing he would have to do this whether he liked it or not, he climbed down the side and dropped onto his feet.

This was when he realized that he had been pants-ed (panted? Pantsed?) in his slumber.

What was going on?

Distractedly, he scratched the fabric that was already beginning to chafe his inner thighs as he toddled to the large door, which he realized had been left ajar. Mamai had always closed his door to keep him safe while he slept.

A sense of trepidation overcame him, and he plopped back down on his bum. He pulled blankie securely around his shoulders and covered his face with his hands. Maybe if he waited in the safety of the darkness his closed eyes provided, someone would find him and protect him.

…

No, he needed to find them. Stubbornly, he stood back up and pulled the door all the way open, cringing at the high-pitched squeal it gave.

The halls were dimly lit and the only company he had was that of the multiple suits of armor, standing stoic and proud in neat rows. He timidly toddled down the center of the large corridor, eyes wide and thumb returning to his mouth once more. Those metal knights sure were tall…

He slowly made progress down the imposing hall, noticing every single detail that he wouldn't have bothered with normally. Every flicker of a candle, every rustle of the breeze. When he heard a muted shifting of metallic proportions, Merlin's breath hitched in his throat. It had been the smallest sound, and yet every system in the child's body was on full alert. He fought to keep his bladder under control.

Horrified, he spun on his heel and peered down the passageway from whence he had come. The setting sun's light bounced off the various metal surfaces, including- to Merlin's utter terror- an empty suit of armor spewed across the floor just a few feet away.

Were those footsteps he heard, prowling among the shadows? His eyes were bugging and his breathing was quick and shallow. At every sound, he jumped and spun around.

"Boo!" Came a familiar voice from behind him. Merlin screamed anyways, fighting as hard as humanly possible- and then some- to keep the urine from leaving his body. Strong arms scooped his trembling form off the ground and wrapped him in his blankie in a soothing swaddle. Gwaine noticed his terror and immediately pulled him closer, muttering apologies over and over.

"Oh Lord, Merlin! I didn't mean to scare ya _that _badly! I'm sorry! Are you okay?" The child shakily nodded, hugging his protector closer.

"I was alone!" He cried, not sure if it was relief or shock that he was feeling. Gwaine pulled him away from his chest and looked him in the eyes.

"Merlin, you will never be forgotten or abandoned. We all care for you very mu-"

He paused his heartfelt speech when he noticed his ward staring at a space over his shoulder with intense curiosity. Sighing, he started to turn around so he could take a look.

That was when the figure that Merlin had been studying decided to take action, charging at the knight head-on. Gwaine had no time to react, and because of his being caught off guard, he was taken down with a single sleeping spell. Dropping Merlin onto his butt, his eyelids fluttered closed and he dropped painfully to the ground with a thick thud.

Merlin screamed. His magic welled up inside of him, and his eyes turned molten gold in color. He wasn't thinking, just letting his instincts guide him.

The hooded figure held out a warning hand, a hand covered in tattoos and holding a dagger. A male voice whispered,

"You use your magic once, and I'll kill your mother and your king. Your knight here will be the first to go. Understand?" And Merlin, too young to realize that he could easily kill this man and so end his threats, tearfully obeyed, swallowing his magic down uncomfortably.

The scary man sent him to sleep too.

~oOo~

Khalil knew of the risks he was taking. He also knew he had no choice. The royal brat was his only chance, and if this was what he had to do, so be it.

As the raven-haired toddler sank much more lightly to the floor, he rushed forward and grabbed him up. He took him under the folds of his thick black cloak, holding the boy to his chest and using his magic to place a piece of tattered parchment on the stone floor next to the dozing knight.

Double-checking that he had left nothing out, Khalil's eyes then burned red and in a flash of blue light, both tiny warlock and mere sorcerer disappeared from the castle.

As the young man carried Merlin hurriedly through the forest surrounding Camelot, his thoughts strayed to the child now in his custody. He sure was light for a spoiled, eat-whatever-you-want prince. A miniscule pang of regret shot through his heart as he gazed at the tiny face, the bony limbs, and the worn yet well-mended clothing. This was someone's baby. This was _King Arthur_'_s _baby. His _magical_ baby. That thought made him frown.

Was _this _why Pendragon had returned magic to the realm? Because his own son was born with it? Khalil was sickened at the thought that it took _his own child_ to be at risk for the thick-headed king to finally realize that sorcerers were not evil, and that most did not ask for their powers. Idiot.

He really did pity the boy, in all honesty. Children shouldn't have to be put through such madness. Maybe he should just... no. His face set in hard determination and his steps became more purposeful. He had nothing against the boy, and this may be dangerous for him. But he _had to get this done_.

This was what had to be done if Khalil was to see his own little boy again, and with such precious things at stake, he couldn't afford to care what happened to this one.

**Uh-oh! Merlie's in a little bit of trouble, isn't he? On his birthday, no less! And without his medicine? Gasp! What will I do next? I guess you'll just have to keep reading, won't you?**

**Oh, and maybe leave a little review too. Those things are what keep my creative juices a'flowin'!**

**Thanks!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Wow! Great feedback, guys! **** My creativity has spiked thanks to you, so here's a sorta early update!**

**Thanks for the reviews, and be sure to leave more!**

**Never Quite Lost: The Irony of Said Title**

To say Arthur was pissed was an understatement.

He continuously rubbed his temples in a vain attempt to calm his raging headache. Peasant after peasant came filtering through the great doors to the mighty throne room, each having a- rather whiny- complaint to share.

Around two dozen claimed that a child was living naked on the streets, and that some abuser must be hiding within Camelot's very walls. About three fourths of these people also had scoldings for him, 'respectfully' demanding why he allowed his own citizens to be treated this way.

If that wasn't enough, interspersed between these lovely visits were the conspiracy theorists; he had lost count of how many elderly men had asked about possible invading forces, and if maybe this was some sort of spy. One even claimed that it was the king's pet imp, escaped from its cage and causing mischief.

And then came the best ones, the peasants who had recognized Merlin and had come with the sole purpose of lecturing Arthur on how irresponsible his actions were, and how to be a better parent to the lad. This group mostly consisted of elderly women with very few- or no- children of their own.

After six hours of listening to reports, not once being able to wean Merlin's location from the witnesses, the king had simply ordered the rest of the people away.

Worry niggled in his brain, and he allowed it to. Merlin had been escaped and half-naked for about seven hours, it currently being noon when he ran off at around five in the morning. The search parties had lost his trail a while back in the lower town, as he had probably used his magic to increase his own speed. Now they were all floundering, having no idea where else to search.

'This is ridiculous! Merlin is my son, and I am sitting on my throne as he is searched for!' Arthur thought, immediately standing and rushing down the halls. He summoned his daughter to him and asked to be filled in.

"Well, the knights are currently looking in the marketplace, Her Majesty is leading the servants throughout the castle and I am to help Lady Hunith search the courtyard." Julia explained, gesticulating wildly in her hysterics. Arthur could see she was out of breath and was itching to get back to the search. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I will accompany you." He said, and without further prompting, they ran down to the large courtyard, bustling with activity and possibilities. They caught Hunith's gaze and she nodded to her left, showing them where to start searching. It had been over seven hours at this point, and they needed to find him soon. They even split up to cover more ground.

They searched high and low, behind every statue and water pump, through every doorway, but found nothing.

Cue a peasant's convenient interruption.

"Sire! Sire!" She exclaimed in fear. "The calves, they have gone mad!" Arthur stopped his scouring and raised a brow at her.

"Whatever do you mean?" He asked. She grasped his forearm in desperation, not realizing how inappropriate this action was.

"They have started to wail, sire! And when any of the men try to approach, they charge at them!" Arthur admitted that his curiosity was peaked, but mostly for the reason that this woman may have been mistaken on who exactly had gone mad. He had better things to worry about, and she chooses _now _to bombard him with such trivial matters?

"I am sure they are fine. Consult an expert on this." Was all he said, brushing her hands off and continuing to search. Then she shouted behind him, causing him to stop in his tracks.

"But sire! There's a child in danger, sire!" He spun on his heel and ran back to her, placing hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him in surprise.

"Child? What child?" He demanded. The woman shook slightly.

"I don't know, sire. I can't ever seem to get a good look at 'im! He's got black hair, according to the merchant across from the stables." Arthur's heart froze.

"Was he fully clothed?" He asked, and she now looked like she doubted _his _sanity. When there was no immediate answer, he shook her slightly.

"_Was he fully clothed?"_ Now she shivered harder under his grasp, her eyes wide as she desperately thought back to the incident.

"I- I don't… Wait, I remember! He had a shirt on, but from what I could see between the calves, his legs were naked. I remember getting angry when some children made jokes of it." Arthur sagged his shoulders, releasing her.

"Thank you." He said. "What is your name?" She smiled rather kindly, relaxing, and he decided he liked her better now that she wasn't insane.

"Sara, M'Lord." She curtsied. He bowed his head and was off to the stables that held the young calves.

~oOo~

"Woah! Back!" Arthur yelled, jumping back himself. He stood at the entrance to the stables, blocked by a solid wall of large baby cows. A particularly rowdy heifer snorted and shoved her thick skull into his gut, shoving him even further.

He was beyond angry.

When he had arrived, a large crowd had gathered to watch as the Mighty King Arthur faced down the miniature cattle. All calves were loose throughout the small shack, yet they all seemed to radiate around the far back corner, blocking his view. Not to mention the incessant crying noises they made- his head was throbbing even harder now. Honestly, they needed to limit the cow population.

A fuzzy body stood sideways in front of him, making a successful barrier between the threat and her fellow calves.

'Merlin is in there.' Arthur thought to himself, and having had enough, he unsheathed his sword. A collective gasp was heard behind him. Was he really going to slaughter the adorable baby cows?

Thankfully, the sight of the blade had the proper effect on the animals, and they all backed away in fear. Smirking, he shoved his way through to the very back corner, feeling similar to a fisherman wading through the murky, waist-deep ponds.

And there, to his utmost relief, was Merlin, sleeping rather soundly on the large pile of hay.

His feet and legs were filthy and his hair splayed out in all directions. His thumb was tucked securely in his mouth. Sighing, Arthur sheathed his sword and scooped the tiny child into his arms and wrapped him in his cape for cover, holding him close as a comfort.

He was okay.

Making as little noise as possible, the king escaped the sea of cows. The boy was too pooped to even stir in his heavy sleep. A very loud applause met the king as he emerged from the stables, although through the loud praise several snarky comments made their way to his ears.

"Isn't that his son?"

"Sure looks like 'im!"

"I dunno, I ain't seen 'im in person, but he looks too pale to be related to the king and queen."

"But 'e has the queen's hair!"

"Why is he naked? Does the king really allow such treatment?"

"That couldn't be 'is son, then, if he treats him so!"

"Hush, you two. Children do crazy things sometimes. He is a good king, do not let a toddler's actions be held against him." Arthur smiled in appreciation and his heart warmed. He had some very wise citizens. Some, at least.

Arthur rushed the boy to his mother, who then took him to his nursery to be cleaned up. Gaius later checked the slumbering child over, giving him a clean bill of health and suggesting that he be allowed to rest his exhausted body until his birthday celebration that night.

~oOo~

"Where are they?" Arthur asked in frustration. Gwen placed a hand on his.

"Arthur, Merlin was out cold, remember? He probably hasn't even woken up yet. Gwaine will bring him when he's ready."

It didn't help too much, though. Arthur still felt a strange trepidation in his gut, like he just _knew _that something was wrong. Had Merlin gotten hurt? He had had Lancelot remove the rails to the cradle as a symbol of Merlin's three-year-old status, but maybe it had been a mistake? Had he fallen? What if he had gotten lost? Gwaine was supposed to stand watch over his ward's room until he had awoken, then bring Merlin to the party after. Had Gwaine allowed something to happen? It was past sunset, Merlin should have roused by now.

Everyone had gathered in the main hall, waiting for the duo's arrival. Arthur became uneasy as he realized that no one remained near the vicinity of his son and his knight, meaning no one would be able to witness to anything that happened. A chill went down his spine.

"Percival, Elyan, go check on Gwaine and Merlin." He whispered to his knights, trying not to cause any panic in the crowd. They nodded and left. The sea of servants and peasants and even a visiting noble or two immediately parted for them. Thousands of pairs of eyes looked questioningly at their king, but his nod sent them back to their festivities. Hunith, who was slicing up the turkey she had specially baked, looked up at Arthur with a kind smile.

"Sire, they are going to be al-" But then she froze mid-sentence. Her face drained of color, her eyes widened, and her breath caught in her throat. A choked gasp emerged from her gaping mouth, and the knife slipped from her slacked hands, which Arthur noticed were shaking severely.

"Hunith? Hunith! What is wrong?" Arthur yelled, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her face closer to his. She slowly looked up into his eyes, and the teary, horrified look in hers told him she felt the exact same thing he had been for so long now.

"M-Merlin." She whispered.

Elyan burst through the doors, sprinting to the main table where the royals stood. He was panting heavily and his eyes were crazed.

"Sire! Merlin is gone!" He cried, drawing all attention to himself. Arthur froze.

"Where is Gwaine?" Gwen demanded of her brother, furious that the knight hadn't stopped this.

"He is unconscious. Percival is carrying him to Gaius's chambers." Was the answer. Oh no.

Gaius nodded and left for his chambers.

"Are you sure Merlin is gone?" Arthur worried. Elyan nodded sadly and produced a faded piece of parchment. The king took it in trembling hands.

_I take your son with a heavy heart._

_I hold no regrets for your sake, but for his._

_He is most necessary for reasons I am not to list._

_Do not expect him back, and do not come searching for him._

_Coming too close will have deadly consequences._

_For whom the punishment will be, you may take a guess._

It was signed with the letter K followed by a swooping drawing of a dragon's head.

Arthur split the paper in two and leapt over the table, storming through the doors and to the armory.

Within twenty minutes, the troops had mounted their horses, ready to start the search.

Guenivere watched with a sullen face as the brilliant Pendragon red faded into the dark, merciless black; she desperately wondered if their family would ever be whole again.

"Bring him home, Arthur." She whispered.

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